


Family

by Korazan



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Abuse, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-06-13 17:29:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 77,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15369651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Korazan/pseuds/Korazan
Summary: Next up is Mukuro! See ya!





	1. 01 – Lal Mirch

****

“Where the hell have you been, Iemitsu?!?”

Lal Mirch marched into the office with heavy stomps, furious and annoyed. The fool had gone missing for _months_ and then he’d popped out like no one’s business without an ounce of shame. He was in for a sound beating this time!

However, when he looked at his Boss, she stopped her rampage and blinked. Were those tears? Why the hell was he crying this time?! No, wait, they were not the usual ones, they were true, slow and pained. What had happened?

“Oi, what’s wrong?” She approached the desk on which the man had his elbows.

“Lal, I…” He sighed, tears still flowing. “My wife has been killed.”

The woman blinked. … … Wife? Wife?? Killed?!? What the hell?!?!

“What the…” No, wait, he was really crying, this was serious. “You were married?”

“Yes…”

“That’s the reason why you kept on disappearing?”

Iemitsu nodded, closing his red eyes. He brushed a hand on them to get rid of the tears.

“I…”

“It’s my fault, I know.” He suddenly said, looking straight at Lal. “But, there’s something more. I have a son.”

Oh gosh… Was he aware of his goddamn position, this fool?!? A son now?!

“Where is he?”

“Here... I brought him here.”

Lal went boom. “WHAT?!?!”

“Look, I’m sorry, but what was I supposed to do?”

“This is CEDEF! Damn it, Iemitsu! We’re not a playground!!”

“Lal… He needs healing.”

The woman frowned. “Iemitsu, tell me the whole situation before I shoot you.” She growled.

“Nana died trying to protect him, he was abducted. For five months… he was…” He closed his eyes. “Abused.” He whispered. “He is only five…” His voice broke.

Lal was speechless. Abused? Five-years old? Those scumbags… She could understand now. Iemitsu was a wreck, it was obvious, and he couldn’t leave his son defenceless. She sighed, massaging her temples for the growing headache.

“What then?”

“I’ll protect him this time.” Iemitsu said, determined. “No one will ever touch him again.” A low growl.

Lal sighed… again. “Where is he?”

“In my room.”

“Let’s go.”

Iemitsu stood and left the office with Lal in tow. They followed a corridor on the right and turned left once before meeting a door. The man took a long, calming breath and knocked twice before entering. Lal froze.

The boy in front of her was small, skinny, bandaged, emotionless, exhausted, wounded and… unsettling. His eyes were dull, but, at the same time, there was a low fire in them. A strong, invincible will. For what, she didn’t know, but it was there.

“Tsuna, how are you feeling?”

Iemitsu took him in his arms and the boy whimpered slightly. “F-fine…”

“Very well.” He smiled a bit. “This here is a colleague of mine, her name is Lal Mirch.”

Tsuna turned to her and she immediately felt his insides out in the open. “Nice to meet you, Tsuna.” She held high a hand for him to shake.

The boy tilted his head to the right before gripping one of her fingers with his tiny hand. “N-nice to… Meet you… Lal-san.”

“We’re not in Japan, little Tuna-fishie. The honorifics aren’t used here.” Iemitsu chuckled.

“Oh… L-Lal?” He looked at the woman with a questioning gaze.

“Y-yes. Lal is ok, Tsuna.” She forced her lips to curl up a bit.

The boy’s smile was small and almost imperceptible. The low growl of a tiny stomach resounded and Lal felt like hurting badly Iemitsu. Few days of playing father and he forgets about feeding his own son.

“I’m.. s-sorry…” Tsuna quickly apologized. “I’ll w-wait… A-a doll d-doesn’t…”

Iemitsu hastily shook his head, brushing a kind hand through his son’s hair. “Tsuna, you’re not with them anymore. Please, whatever you want, ask me or Lal. We won’t do anything bad to you, okay?”

The boy bit his lower lip. “B-but… I d-don’t want… The f-fat man….”

“Tuna-fishie…” Iemitsu sighed, putting his forehead against his son’s one. “That bad man is gone now, he can’t reach for you anymore.”

Lal ignored his heart being torn and smiled to the wounded bundle. “Tsuna, do you want to eat?” He turned to her and shyly nodded. “Will you come with me?” Iemitsu held his son to her and the boy chose to go to the woman’s arms. “Thank you for your trust, Tsuna. Now, why don’t we leave your dumb father and go eat something?”

That elicited a small, weak, hoarse chuckle from the boy. Iemitsu felt like melting and silent tears escaped his eyes. Lal ignored him and left with Tsuna cradled in her arms. The woman walked through some corridors, that were luckily empty, given it was four in the morning.

“W-where… a-are we?”

“We are in Italy, Tsuna. In a safe place.”

“I-Italy? That’s… far.”

“Yes. And I’ll make sure you learn the language and etiquette. We don’t want you acting like your father, right?”

Another chuckle. God bless him. Iemitsu’s antics were helping, who could have imagined… They arrived in a large kitchen. It was empty. Lal sat Tuna on a counter and started gathering the utensils.

“W-will there… be w-worms?”

The pot almost slid from her hands. “O-of course not, Tsuna… What have you eaten recently?”

“Uhm… L-leftovers…”

“Were they solid?”

“Sometimes.”

“I see… Do you want a soup?”

Tsuna nodded. “T-thanks…”

“No problem.” Lal ruffled the boy’s hair, that were dirty but soft. “As your dad said, please ask me whatever you need, okay?”

Another shy nod. The woman smiled and started cooking. Meanwhile, she took another look at the boy. The bandages were covering almost the whole body, the shirt was big and dirty and it was the only thing he was wearing. She made a mental note to go buy some clothes and he needed a bath, a long, soothing one.

Lal gave him a small water bottle and he drank slowly after thanking her. He was polite, probably thanks to his mother. Iemitsu was polite only on emergency meetings. The boy didn’t move if not for taking a sip of water. She honestly didn’t know what to think…

Tsuna had been abused, that much she could tell simply by analysing his stance. Hunched shoulders, arms tightly closed at his sides, straight knees, wariness… And those eyes. They had seen, had experienced something horrible. Every time the child would look at her, Lal wanted nothing more than envelope him in a hug. … She was a damn assassin.

Instead, she cooked the meal and settled the plate on a table. The boy sat at the chair and started eating slowly. Lal looked at him to take note of his reactions, she hasn’t cooked in years…

Tsuna, at first, took a half-empty spoon and sipped the contents warily. He licked his lips thoughtfully and took another spoon. Then a third, a bit fuller, a forth, and so on. Slowly, the plate was emptied and Lal smiled.

“It was… d-delicious, Lal… T-thanks…”

“You haven’t eaten a cooked meal in a long time, right?”

Tsuna nodded with a sad smile. “This was w-warm…”

Lal ruffled his hair and took him in her arms, leaving the plates for the cooks to clean. She left the kitchen and went to a free room on the top floor of the building.

“Do you want to take a bath?”

The boy nodded eagerly and earned a smile. Lal used the elevator and chose a door on the left corridor. It was simple, smaller than Iemitsu’s. The floor was in parquet, the ceiling white and the walls covered in light orange wallpaper. There was a one-sized bed with white sheets, a wooden desk, a chair and a window, covered by brown curtains. Aside from the door she had just closed, there was another one that led to the bathroom.

“Do you like it?”

Tsuna nodded, smiling. “It’s bigger… than mine…”

Lal held back a snicker and entered the bathroom. She opened the faucet of the bathtub to fill it. She put Tsuna on the floor and took the hem of the shirt.

“Can I?”

The boy bit his lower lip and closed his eyes. She waited patiently, and was rewarded. When he reopened them, the fire from before was a bit stronger and Tsuna nodded slowly.

Lal took the shirt off and started undoing the bandages. The wounds were superficial, but awful, for several reasons. There were large handprints on his neck, waist and wrists. Cuts and scratches on the backside, hands and knees. The feet were black from dirt, puke, poop and dried blood, much more than the skin not treated for the wounds. He was skinny, she could see his ribcage.

Tsuna shivered in the cold air and Lal let him enter the warm water. And then, she couldn’t not see the signs of the abuse. She bit his tongue, almost drawing blood, and helped him getting clean. She delicately scrubbed the skin, wary of the wounds, successfully taking away dirt and dried blood. The wounds seemed nastier on the red, clean skin.

The boy chuckled here and there for ticklish spots, but otherwise let her do what she wanted. Lal didn’t go on the private zone and Tsuna noticed it. He smiled thankfully and did what he needed to on his own. When he exited the bathtub, his skin was red from the warmth and the scrubbing, but his posture was more relaxed. He used a towel while Lal took some clothes from the drawer.

The HQ was obviously not prepared to take care of a child, so the clothes were abnormally large for him. She then cut one of the shirt and used a muffler to make pants. She was not a seamstress, but it was bearable… Yeah, okay, she needed urgently to go shopping for Tsuna. Alone. Iemitsu-free. Maybe the boy would have appreciated the excursion, instead.

“Tsuna.” She called him, that was rather cute in that attire. “Do you want to go shopping for new clothes today?” The boy nodded shyly and Lal could almost hear the unsaid question. “Don’t worry, it will be on your father’s payroll.” She winked.

He chuckled, his voice was returning to normal. She gave him another bottle of water and took him in his arms.

“This will be your room, okay?”

At Tsuna’s nod, Lal hopped on the elevator and went to his Boss’ office. She decided to knock and wait for permission, that came instantly. Iemitsu was sitting in his armchair, holding in his hands a photo frame. He put it face down on the desk and smiled at them.

“My cute Tuna-fishie!”

Lal kicked the approaching face of the puppy and slammed him on the floor. Tsuna chuckled again. Yes, they could get along, for sure. Torturing Iemitsu to their enjoyment every time they wanted.

“You’re unsightly. I’m going shopping for Tsuna, so you’re on your own.”

She left while the boy smiled and waved at his dad. Lal went outside, took the keys of her blue Giulia and put Tsuna on the passenger seat, belt laced. She climbed up and turned on the car.

“This is… A beautiful… Car.”

“Thank you.” She smirked.

She drove out of the HQ and chose a road through the forest that would have led her to town. After some moments, she noticed the boy was sleeping peacefully. Before the smile could reach her eyes, it turned into a frown.

Iemitsu, though a fool through and through, was right. Tsuna needed healing, and not bodily. But how? It was not a light thing, this needed tact. She didn’t know how Tsuna was, and, considering his father had been in Italy for over a year, she doubted highly he did. How were they supposed to thread?

Five-years old… A psychologist? Heck no… Those mind-blowing puzzle-makers… Plus, Tsuna was not showing any signs of needing one. He was not scared to the point of not analysing the situation at hand. No, damn no. Children his age? No, they were tactless at times… Tsuna, instead, had shown high perceptiveness. She had to make him open to her… And, yes, she was starting to care, damn it… This was all Iemitsu’s fault.

She drove through the main road of the town and entered the parking area of a mall. She shook Tsuna lightly after turning off the car. The boy woke up with a start and took a bit of time to assess his surroundings.

“Tsuna, it’s me, Lal.”

He turned to her and instantly relaxed. This boy was trusting her, that much was obvious… This boy, abused by Mafia, was trusting a hitman from the same dark world… Was this even right?

“You are.. Not like them.” He said suddenly with a frown. “You are… Kind.”

Lal blinked owlishly four times before breaking into a small smile. “You sure?”

Tsuna nodded, smiling back. “You are kind.”

“If you say so…”

They left the car and entered the not so crowded mall. It was the classical one, glassed walls, benches in the corridors, many shops, fountains, ice cream’s parlours. Tsuna was holding her hand, walking on his own, and slightly covered by her leg. She let it slide this time and chose the first shop for children’s clothes.

Apparently, the boy preferred hoodies, jeans, black, orange, boots and lions. Did the last one had a link to his father? Whatever… Ignoring the waitress’ glances, probably because of Tsuna’s get-up, she changed him in black hoodie, jeans and boots just purchased and payed for the clothes. Quite the amount, but she couldn’t care less.

Lal bought him ice cream, too, and a Fanta for herself. Tsuna had pinpointed the chocolate flavour, after many encouraging words, and they were currently sitting on a bench near a big fountain, shopping bags on the floor.

If someone had ever told her she would be going shopping with a toddler, she would have shot whoever that was neatly in the forehead. But, here she was, buying ice cream and enjoying a morning of peace. It was unsettling, but… welcome, in some ways…

Thinking about it, the situation was a bit awry. Tsuna was CEDEF’s Boss’ son, and living in the HQ was going to be dangerous for him. True, it was the safest place in the entire world at that moment, at his father’s side, but it was not a place for kids… And what about Vongola? Did Nono know of him? If not, he had to be informed.

She sighed silently, glancing at Tsuna, that was licking shyly at his ice cream and watching the other children with their mothers. Iemitsu had not told her the whole story, but she had a feeling the kid had witnessed his mom’s death. That had surely left quite the nasty scar, much worse than those on his skin.

Strange as it was, the kid spoke. His voice was warmer and less hoarse. Still a whisper, but it was getting better. She mentally thanked her good hearing.

“Dad said mom has left us…” He took another wary lick. “I… I let them… Take mom away…”

Oh God… “No, Tsuna, it wasn’t your fault.” She stood and knelt in front of him.

“But… I didn’t do anything…”

“You couldn’t do anything, Tsuna. You’re only a child, it’s okay, your mom is happy you’re safe now.”

The brunette bit his lower lip and looked down. Lal sat again and finished her drink. The boy was not convinced, but she considered this a beginning.

When the ice cream started melting, Lal understood the boy didn’t want it anymore and threw it in the garbage.

“If you don’t want something or the contrary and if you want to say something, just do.” She said, somewhat sternly, and the boy blushed, ashamed.

They went back to HQ and the boy fell asleep again. Be it for the time difference or his experience, he was tired and needed time to adjust to the new situation. Without waking him up, Lal took him in her arms, instructed some men to take the shopping bags to the designated room and used the elevator. Mid-way to the floor, it stopped to a call and she was surprised to see Timoteo on the doorway.

“Oh, Lal, buongiorno. (good morning.)” He smiled.

“Vongola Nono.” She nodded respectfully.

The man joined her and eyed curiously the black bundle in her arms. He didn’t voice his questions and she decided to go to Iemitsu first. They exited the elevator on the offices’ floor and walked silently to the main one. Lal knocked and entered after the permission, earning a curious glance from the man beside her.

The Boss was going through some documents and stood at their sight.

“Timoteo, come sta? (how are you?)”

“Bene, Iemitsu, tu piuttosto? (Fine, Iemitsu, but you?)”

The man sighed. “Non così bene… (Not so fine…)” He eyed Lal. “Come è andata? (How did it go?)”

“Gli ho comprato molti vestiti e un gelato, che non ha finito. Per il momento, suggerirei pochi pasti solidi…. Pensava che la sua morte fosse colpa sua. (I bought him a lot of clothes and an ice cream, that he didn’t finish. For the time being, I suggest few solid meals…. He thought that her death was his fault.)

“My little Tuna-fishie…”

Iemitsu approached her and shifted the hoodie a bit. Little streams of tears were on his cheeks. An embarrassed cough brought them to earth. Lal was the first to understand the misunderstanding.

“Non è mio figlio, Vongola Nono. (He’s not my son, Vongola Nono).” She sighed.

In another situation, she would have seethed. But Tsuna was there and she had a feeling that could have stirred the boy.

“E’ mio. (He’s mine.)” Iemitsu let go of the hoodie and ruffled his hair. “Mia moglie è stata uccisa… e mio figlio rapito e abusato. Il posto più sicuro ora per lui è proprio qui. (My wife has been killed… and my son abducted and abused. The safest place for him is right here, now.)” He looked sadly at the Mafia Boss.

Timoteo was speechless, of course. Lal couldn’t blame him.

“Giappone. (Japan.)” Iemitsu nodded. “Capisco… (I see…).”

In that instant, Tsuna blinked open his eyes and looked startled at Lal. “Good morning there.” She smiled.

“Lal-nee…”

The woman tilted his head. Wasn’t ‘nee’ used as an honorific for sisters? Tsuna was considering her a big sister?

The boy straightened in the embrace and looked around. He recognized his father and smiled at him. Then he saw Timoteo, that had a kind expression, and lingered his gaze on him for a long time. Lal could have sworn she saw the man waver a bit.

“Hi…”

Nono approached slowly Tsuna. “Hi, little one. What’s your name?”

“Tsunayoshi…”

“Oh, but you like Tsuna better?”

“Mom called me Tsuna…”

“I see, do you mind if I call you that way, too?”

The brunette shook lightly his head. “And you are…?”

“My my, how impolite of me.” He chuckled. “My name is Timoteo, what do you want to call me?”

Tsuna tilted his head a bit and smiled. “Timo-jii?”

Iemitsu snickered while Lal shook her head. The old man smiled and nodded. The boy looked at the woman and blushed a bit.

“I-I’m… hungry…”

Lal blinked and ruffled his hair. “Good boy, that’s it, ask. We’ll go and eat something.”

She left with the kid and Iemitsu fell in his armchair. Timoteo sat patiently in the one in front of the desk.

“A son… Five?”

The other nodded, a hand shielding his eyes.

“You haven’t told me.” It wasn’t an accusation, but the tone was a bit pained.

“I was going to, but…”

“I understand. What do you plan to do?”

“They have already reached him once. It’s not going to happen again.” He growled. “He is to stay here, where I can protect him.”

Timoteo hummed. “What about the Vongola mansion?”

Iemitsu almost shot up in shock. “Wha…”

“You see, CEDEF is not a place for children. Instead, the mansion is safe and I can provide him a tutor for private lessons. What do you think?”

After a long silent moment, Iemitsu looked straight into the other’s eyes. “Why have you come?”

Timoteo smiled. If Iemitsu was asking that, he was already considering the offer. It was a silent victory.

“Xanxus is acting strange.” He said, earning a glare. “I think… He knows. I’m keeping watch on his actions, on Varia, too. I thought a warning would have been appreciated.”

“Highly…” He folded his fingers under his chin. “Will Tsuna really be okay there?”

“I can’t be sure… But here is not exactly a good place, either.”

“I want to ask him first.”

“As you wish.” He stood. “Shall we?”

 

“Thanks for the clothes, Lal-nee.”

“No worries.” She gave the almost empty plate to a cook and ruffled his hair. “How are you feeling?”

Oh my… Was that a pout now?

“I’m fine…”

“What? Not liking being pampered?”

The pout disappeared, leaving place for a sad smile. “It’s not like that…” He sighed, looking intently around, at the people swarming the kitchen. “You remind me of mom when you do…”

Ah, Tsuna liked it, that’s why he was acting that way. Cute. She was about to take him in her arms when the boy… disappeared. She froze. One moment he was there, a blink, and he was not there anymore.

Lal almost suffered a whiplash, turning abruptly towards the kitchen. A wall of people in white uniforms were helping someone up, the chef, and Tsuna was right there, smiling shyly. The woman rushed to him and knelt to look at the boy better.

“What…”

“Lal-nee, I’m okay.”

“Grazie, ragazzo. (Thank you, boy.) Probabilmente mi hai appena salvato la pelle… (Probably, you just saved my skin…)” The chef said, a bit shocked.

“Tsuna, what happened?”

“Ah… Fire…” He pointed a finger at the stove.

Lal looked at the chef, silently asking for an explanation. “Chiedo scusa, Signore. È uscito troppo gas prima della scintilla. (I’m sorry, Sir. Too much gas has leaked out before the spark.)”

The woman nodded, scooping Tsuna and returning to the table, slightly baffled. The boy waved shyly at the smiling cook while sitting again.

“Tsuna… How did you do it?”

“Uhm…” He blushed. “I saw the fire and wanted to help… I’m sorry…”

“Oh, no, I’m not reprimanding you.” Lal smiled. “I’m simply surprised by your speed. Can you tell me more?”

Tsuna looked down, thoughtful. “I… Just ran…? I wanted to… help…”

Ah. The puppy eyes. Out of all of Iemitsu’s perks, Tsuna had obviously gained the most dangerous. Well, better than the idiocy. But Lal put the thought aside and analysed the matter at hand. The boy had acted on instinct, with fast thinking and fast footing. How, exactly? Maybe she had to ask Iemitsu…

Talk about the devil…

“My little Tuna-fishie!”

The idiot grabbed Tsuna from his waist and made him fly high in the air. Lal frowned, checking if the boy was comfortable with that. Well, it seemed that he was not. She had officially the permission to kick his Boss. And snatch Tuna for herself.

“Check your surroundings, and then if he _wants_ to, idiot.” At that, Tsuna chuckled and cuddled.

Cute.

…

Oh God…

Timoteo smiled. “Everything all right?” Maybe he noticed somethings she did not.

“Tsuna saved a chef from a wild fire.”

“That’s my little Tuna-fishie!” Another well-deserved kick.

Lal snickered towards Tsuna. “And you?”

Nono took a moment to take in the sight and sighed, regarding the boy with a serious expression. “Tell me, Tsuna…-kun. Would you like to come living with me?” He smiled brightly and kindly.

Tsuna’s eyes widened. “Your house?”

“Ahah… Yes. My big house. With a garden, many rooms, toys…”

The boy looked at the standing Iemitsu. “Dad?”

The CEDEF’s Boss looked around and then at his son. “It’s your choice, Tsuna. If you want to go, you can be with Timo-jii and be safe. You’ll be safe here, too... But Timo-jii’s house is better. Regardless, you choose.” He smiled. “I’ll visit, if you go.”

Tsuna looked down, then at Lal. “Lal-nee…”

“Yes, Tsuna?”

“I… I want to go… But…”

So cute… “I’ll be fine, Tsuna. I’ll visit, too. God forbid I leave you into your father’s hands.” She rolled her eyes mockingly, making him chuckle.

The boy turned to Timoteo. “Okay…”

The old man all but sparkled in happiness. “I’m glad you accepted.”

Tsuna smiled back, a bit unsure. Lal briefly wondered why exactly he had just accepted.


	2. 02 – Xanxus

Vongola’s mansion was no less than a modern castle. Three stories, black walls and pointy roofs, statues all over, a too big garden, gravel roads… Right out of a horror movie. Strange but good. And it didn’t have that air of abandonment.

Xanxus strode pridefully through the corridor, Squalo at his back. He snarled at everyone they met and entered finally his rooms, leaving the Rain outside. Finally. He slumped in his couch and took a bottle of wine from the low table, not bothering with a glass, nor name and age. He didn’t care. And he was in the mansion, anyhow, nothing less than perfect passed its doors.

He growled remembering what was going to happen in a matter of few days. A coup d’état. What else was he supposed to do? He was the heir, no matter what the others thought! He had the double X’s in his name. He had the necessary strength to take over. He was Nono’s son!

Only, he was not. He was not his bloody son. He was adopted, out of pity alone. He had left his mother, the one that had not cared for him an instant since his birth, to the streets. He had dug his way to the top with sheer willpower, training and training and beating the shit out of people that did not consider him Boss material.

All for nothing. Because he’d had no chance to succeed the old man from the beginning. So stated the DNA test. He was no Vongola. He was a stray. An adopted, pitied stray.

Pity was not something Xanxus accepted. He abhorred the thing itself. But, that same pity had put him in a powerful position. That pity was allowing him to pose as a threat, to gain what was rightfully his. His adoptive brothers were long gone. Enrico was shot in a feud. Matsumo had recently drowned. The youngest, Federico, had disappeared some weeks prior.

Even if they would fight this, there were no more heirs. Nono would have crumbled to that. There were no more. Xanxus was going to gain what was his. He only needed some more time to prepare.

The sounds of cars on the gravel paths brought him down from his planning. He stood, half-empty bottle in hand, and disclosed slightly the curtains of the window to the entrance. A limo, followed by two other black cars, parked right in front. A guard opened the door and Nono appeared. He had a happy smile, the same one Xanxus had seen the first time he had come to the mansion. A wave of new rage washed through him, but he ignored it and looked outside.

To his surprise, Lal Mirch joined the old man. They, however, did not walk in, but waited for a third person. The woman propped a hand in the limo and a tiny one gripped it. Of all the people he could have expected to come there, a child was not in his mind. Sure, there were children in their world, they were bound to be, but… This one. This one was different. This one… was fluffy.

Xanxus blinked and lost focus. What the fuck did he just think?! Fluffy?!? No. No no no no. First of all, he did not think fluffy. Never happened. No one would know. Second, how could he know?? He didn’t even touch the boy!! Well, he seemed fluffy, with that caramel crop of messy, gravity-defying hair… STOP.

Ok. Enough. He let the curtains close behind him and gulped down the wine. Was it the beverage’s fault? Highly unlikely. He had a strong resistance to it. By then, anyway… He shrugged, throwing the bottle against the wall. The crashing sounds followed him as he exited his room. Squalo was not there and Xanxus decided to sate his curiosity.

He walked through the corridor and took the stairs to the first floor, entering the living room. There were four, velvet red couches on the walls, a big low mahogany table in the middle, few lamps and drawn back red curtains that let the sunlight through the window. He stopped mid-way to a sofa when the door from the entrance opened, revealing the old man. He was looking back to Lal Mirch, that kept helping the child around with her hand on his one.

“… the living room.” Nono smiled at the child... Japanese?

The rage from before was nothing in comparison to the true ire he was feeling. The man had noticed him and the smile he was sporting became faker, strained. Just at the sight of him.

“Oh, see.” He turned to the child, that was regarding them both with an unsure gaze. “Here is my son, Xanxus.” He then looked at him. “Xanxus, this here is Tsunayoshi. Call him Tsuna, if you wish..?”

Looking at the chocolate orbs, for once, he felt lost. They were ravishing his entire being from inside out, he could tell. Those were wise eyes, the kind that had seen too many things. They had lost their innocence, their hope. But they were filled with a will that burned deeply, scarring and bringing life.

The raven-haired kept his behaviour calm and collected as he nodded and turned to leave. The old fucking geezer. Another stray? Another one bound to shoulder this filthy world’s harshness. He briefly wondered who this one was the son of and if he did have flames, being them the only reason why Nono would bother with a new stray.

As he clutched his hand around the doorknob, something grabbed his coat. Now… Why the hell did he not see that coming. He turned warily. How on earth had a child been able to sneak on him. One so skinny and weak, too. By Lal Mirch’s surprised face, ha had sneaked out of her grip, too. And, third, why the fuck was he clutching his coat as if his life depended on it. Not considering he wasn’t seething at those grabby hands.

The child looked at Nono, then back at him. “I’m… sorry…”

Well…. What? He tuned out the lashing of the obvious mother-hens and crouched down to the other’s eye-level. As noticed before, they were deep. They were perceptive. They recognized pain. And if that notion was not mind-blowing – a child… – then he was going mad. He actually sighed.

“It’s not your fault… Brat.”

That said, the boy let go of the cloak with a shy smile and returned to the speechless duo. Xanxus snorted and left with no more words. He let the door close and went back to his room, slightly taken aback.

The little child had just seen through him in a matter of some minutes. Something no one could brag about. Not even Squalo had gone that deep in understanding him. Hell, even Xanxus himself didn’t acknowledge that part of himself. He was hurting, but he couldn’t admit it in his mind. And then, a fluffy little animal had seen through his façade. And had apologized, had shown empathy.

… Thinking about it, Nono would not let him live that little strange behaviour. One thing he was, then, bent down on controlling.

 

Apparently, that was not a visit. Not for the little one. He stayed. From that day, onwards. Nono arranged for him private lessons and, surprisingly for his early age, the boy was a sponge, but maybe a bit slow. The guards frequently patrolling gossiped about him on a daily basis and more fondly as days passed by.

Xanxus kept evading his path. He didn’t want to lose the respect he had gained through bloodshed and fights with another meeting with the brat. He had already lost a lot with the old geezer after the incident in the living room. Like that he had labelled the whole episode in his mind. Afterwards.

Every time he met Nono, the man gave him strange gazes. As if trying to see what he was missing. He knew for sure that the boy did not spill what he saw in him. He was also fairly sure that he could not, who could articulate words for pain, anyway? Right. No one. Go figure if something more than a toddler could.

And, that way, weeks passed by. Lal Mirch visited the child almost daily. On the fourth one, Sawada Iemitsu tagged along. That was when he discovered the reason why the little animal was in their world. He was the idiot’s son. What cruel fate. And he must have taken after the mother. Necessarily. For once, he agreed with Nono in letting the boy live in the mansion. Away from his idiotic father. Yeah, well-played.

His planning for the coup d’état was being a bit discarded. It was true that he evaded the boy, but there was a reason why he knew that he had not told anyone about himself. He spied. The mighty Xanxus, Boss of Varia… Spying. Well, maybe he could do himself a favour and call it checking on a potential new himself. He made sure the boy didn’t turn out like that… Right. How? Vongola Mansion was quite old, with many passageways that he had had the time to discover when younger. To escape guards.

Anyway. His planning was not going on, and, though no one knew about it, he felt urged to finish it and carry it on. As if… As if… Not doing it immediately would have meant not doing it anymore. Strange, but fitting. He didn’t have the intuition Vongola prided themselves on, but this was similar, he thought.

Six weeks passed since their first meeting before they met again. Xanxus was irked by his inability to take a decision upon how to cause the incident. Out of utter frustration, he left his room and went downstairs. But, as his mind was filled with possibilities, he finished in the living room instead of going to the kitchen for a snack. There, the child was reading a book and, upon his entrance, he looked up with those curious, big eyes.

“C-ciao… (H-hi…)” He said.

Xanxus nodded in response. The other pursed his lips and looked away, as if trying to pick words. Ah, the language.

“Speak in Japanese, I don’t mind.”

Thank God, there were no witnesses... Not only had he been _gentle_ but the smile blossoming on the child’s lips was stunningly true. Like no one had ever given him.

“Thank you… T-this is your home… But… Do you want hot chocolate? Or coffee?”

Without thinking, he sat at the couch next to the boy and looked at the tray on the low table. There were two pots, four unused cups with teaspoons and plates, one of which empty, and a sugar bowl. He silently poured himself coffee with a cube of sugar. The boy, still smiling, returned to read his book, legs bent at his side and a cup with hot chocolate in the free hand. He was wearing almost the same clothing of the first day. Black hoodie, jeans and socks, his boots were on the ground. Though… In comparison, his eyes held less sadness, more easiness, same pain. And he was less skinny, looking healthier.

“What happened to you?”

The words slipped through his lips before he could process them. His eyes widened, while the boy flinched. He looked up, right into Xanxus’ orbs. Flickers of fear and pain, clear as water, darkened the chocolate hue. And the teen felt like shit. He was deciding whether to flee or simply let the floor swallow him when the other spoke, with a thin voice.

“Some men… broke into my house… killed mom and… took me.” He swallowed. “I didn’t really… count days. I couldn’t… But dad said… five months.” His eyes got teary, but nothing fell. “They were mean… But one… One…”

Xanxus held high a hand, signalling for him to stop. “Okay, I understand.”

Abused. The child had been abused. No wonders… No wonders. He was bound to be like that. Scarred, wise, perceptive. When experiencing that… One turns out stronger or dead, be it homicide or suicide. The child had gone through hell and returned scarred, but stronger. Resilient, indeed.

The tears receded. “Sorry for asking.” He said, despite not willing to.

Tsuna smiled sadly. “It’s about time… I accept what happened… Can I ask… Something?”

Xanxus nodded. After his own question, he deserved the permission. The other took his time, biting his lower lip. Maybe deciding carefully what to ask.

“I… Can I help you?” His eyes flashed gold.

Xanxus almost spit out the coffee he was drinking. “Wha…”

“Uhm… Sorry… It’s just… You seem troubled, hurting… Back then, you were pained, but… determined… Can I… help you? In any way?”

The teen looked at his half-empty teacup and frowned. A five-years old offering him help. Not counting that flash. Endearing. But he could not help. … Well, not with that. But he could… listen… Right? He already knew something about the problem, after all.

“I recently discovered that I’m not blood-related to my father.” He said, sipping the coffee calmly and looking down. “At first, I wanted to kill him. But then I cooled and started thinking of something else.”

Collected and thoughtful, another flash of gold, Tsuna spoke again. “Then… you changed your mind?”

“Not entirely.” He looked up at the boy. “But, as you said, I’m troubled.”

“You only want… to be acknowledged, right?” Again, a gold hue flashed in his eyes.

Ah, that perceptiveness, it almost reminded him of... And why the hell was he nodding, giving away his inner turmoil. A child was making him spill the beans. A child was succeeding in what any other had failed, miserably, sometimes losing a limb or two.

“Then, why… Don’t you face your father? I mean… It seems like… You discovered it, he didn’t tell you… Maybe, you could… consider talking to him…” He swallowed. “I can help you keep… control of your anger if you… want?”

He was Xanxus. He did no talk. He did fight. He did kill. He was rage. Ire. Fury.

“Maybe, brat.”

At Tsuna’s smile, he stood and left the empty cup in its plate. However, before he could take a step, the other door opened. Nono, Iemitsu and Lal entered, barely registering the two boys. But, when they did, the CEDEF’s Boss’ seething was impossible to miss and… deserved, Xanxus admitted to himself.

Now, the man’s jump to attack, he expected. Tsuna standing between them, not. No, that he had not. He could not. His eyes widened as Iemitsu stopped abruptly, falling head-first on the floor. He wanted to snicker, but the atmosphere… Held those back.

“Dad, why do you… Want to hit my friend?”

The silence that followed was thick. Xanxus lost his mind. Friend? Friend?! Him?!? Was the brat serious? No, he had seriously lost _his_ mind, though. Abuser’s fault?

“F-friend…” Iemitsu barely stood, flinching. “Little Tuna-fishie…” What the heck was that?! “That behind you…”

“Is my friend…” Xanxus couldn’t see the child’s expression, but he was ready to bet on it being puppy eyes and a pout. “You are always telling me… that I should have friends.”

“That’s r-right, but…”

“Now now, Iemitsu.” Nono interrupted him with a happier-than-usual smile. “Let them be, Tsunayoshi has a keen perceptiveness, why don’t you trust him on this?”

_And not me, obviously._ Xanxus scoffed, gaining the boy’s attention. Yep, puppy eyes and pout. But they disappeared when regarding him, he wondered why.

“I’m sorry. Dad is… Overprotective.” He smiled, blushing.

What a dumbass… He face-palmed, before leaving. With a wave.

 

The little animal had apparently succeeded in doing many things. Conquering Xanxus’ trust aside, and making him open up, too.

From the incident number two onwards, many behaviours towards him changed. He made sure, again, it was not because the child had talked. When asked, he would close his lips, cross his arms and look away with a huff. Quite cute.

Anyway, Xanxus met Nono more frequently than usual. Every time, increasingly, he did more than a nod. The first time, he waved with a smile. Then, a greeting. Last time, he had even stopped him for a question, something about an allied family. Odd… and welcomed. That was strange, too.

Also, every evening he was not hindered by missions, he would go to the living room and find Tsuna reading a new book. In the beginning, the boy would be surprised, but, with time passing by, his presence became normal and they would even chat idly, both reading over steaming cups. The old geezer soon took a liking to barge in, obviously uninvited.

The few times a week – the gaps were widening because of problems in CEDEF – Lal visited, she too became used to the new addition. Xanxus found out that the woman was fond of the boy, maybe a bit too much, considering her profession and position as an Arcobaleno.

When Iemitsu tagged along, Xanxus preferred to leave. The man seemed tamed, because of his son’s behave-because-he-is-my-friend glares. A few times, Tsuna convinced the teen to stay, but he hated the idiot. Those few times, his hate grew. He held it back for the boy’s sake.

It was late at night, a month after the incident number two, that the old geezer sent Tsuna to bed and asked Xanxus to wait. The boy looked at him, again a flash of gold passed through his eyes, and the teen nodded, ruffling his hair. A habit he had taken to do as a good night wish. As soon as he left, Xanxus took back his stern look and turned to his so-called father.

“I feel like you want to tell me something.” Nono said.

“Why’s that?” He growled.

The man sighed, sitting again in the couch. “I’ve followed an example and observed more carefully my son.”

Xanxus scoffed. “Son? Me? You sure?” He expected eyes widening, he got a sad smile.

“I suspected you found out. Now, please, tell me… Do we need blood to be related?”

His rage sparked, but he kept his cool. “You fed me shit during all my childhood. Lies. I have rights over nothing here.”

“Allow me to disagree. The rights you have, you have gained through your actions, your strength, your willpower.” He smiled. “Isn’t it a lot worthier in spite of the ones you get from heritage?”

With that, he had no objections. “Why did you take me in?! Why–…”

“It was not pity.” Nono interrupted the flow of furious questions. “You have talent, Xanxus. You have strong flames, you have an intelligent mind, a collected thinking process. I…” He looked down, crane’s head clutched in both his arms. “I wanted to see those talents blossom. It was not pity.”

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth.” Xanxus growled.

“Because… I guess I was a coward.”

The teen snorted. “Scared?”

“Yes. I did not want to lose you.” The sadness in Nono’s eyes was undeniable. “I became attached, you can say. If that’s my mistake, I apologize. However, I do not regret it.”

Xanxus stayed silent, mulling over those words and their meaning. He remembered the smiles, the warmth, the _care_ the old man had showed him in the beginning. When had they began to fade? Maybe, that was his fault. His need to be strong and independent. His frequent reminders that, to be in the Mafia world, he had to grit his teeth and not depend on anyone. The coos of the blood-related sons that always took the chance to look down on him.

“Whatever.”

Xanxus left, not seeing the glad smile on his adoptive father’s face.

 

“And… what have you decided?”

“I still don’t know.”

Tsuna closed his book and put it on the low table. “Is there a way… I can help you?”

Xanxus shook his head. “Least you know how to fight.”

Yes. He was in dire need of a venting. No use denying it.

“I don’t… I never fought… But, if you wish… I can learn.”

Now. That was alluring. He knew the boy had the potential, if his personality was anything to go by. Not considering the Vongola Hyper Intuition. There was no way those flashes of gold were anything else. The boy was the son of Sawada Iemitsu, he was bound to inherit some of those traits. And it seemed that, not only he had them, but they were extremely powerful. Imagine them polished and trained…

The next words were out of his mouth before he could even think them. “I’ll train you.”

Tsuna blinked owlishly. “R-really? I don’t want to… be a bother…”

“You won’t be. I’ll train you. Just make the two mother-hens agree.”

The boy brightened instantly and nodded. “Leave it to me.” He smiled.

 

Few months. To be precise, two, almost three. Tsuna was a real sponge. He needed only a glance to understand the move and file it into his head. Doing it was another topic entirely, but the boy tried and tried and tried. Although not always successful, his determination did the trick. And the hyper intuition helped a lot. Xanxus kept the training as safe as possible, never including flames, and found that it was a good venting way.

Convincing the mother-hens went a bit awry. On Tsuna’s request, he had stayed to see the reactions. He had sat in the couch, silently sipping his espressino. Iemitsu had thrown a fit, much like a child. Lal had studied Xanxus with narrowed eyes and crossed arms. Nono had simply chuckled, pleased. Eventually, the two had capitulated against the puppy eyes.

His relationship with the old geezer had changed. Although still awkward and superficial, they exchanged more sentences in the alleyways, when meeting. Even Squalo arched a brow at those, when he was there to witness the scenes. The guards, too, found the change a hot topic to gossip about.

Whatever. It was nothing to be concerned about. He didn’t care. On the contrary, he understood slowly that Tsuna really meant it when he called him a friend. It was clear by the way they talked. Well, Xanxus was not someone that gave a lot of words, but they managed. And Tsuna was talkative, so he filled the void. Wisely, he must add. The boy was never out of place or too babbling.

So, the training was going on smoothly. In the morning Tsuna would have his lessons, in the afternoon training, in the evening relax reading. That was his schedule. Sometimes, Lal helped when visiting. Xanxus had thought she would stop the visits entirely with time, but, when the problems in CEDEF were taken care of, she resumed with the thrice a week pace. She really was getting too attached to the boy.

Xanxus was not one that could talk, really. He knew he was undergoing the same process. Thank heavens, the boy wasn’t aware of this strange power. God forbids. Well, not that Tsuna was the type to use it badly. He would not use it at all, if he knew.

And how could he forget Squalo’s change, too? Briefly after incident number three, – or maybe before, whatever – the one with Nono, the silver-haired started sneakily asking questions. Maybe thanks to Tsuna’s influence, maybe thanks to the training distractions, maybe thanks to something entirely different, Xanxus answered without throwing a fit. His words were as snarky as ever, but Squalo did not complain. And he began joining the training sessions.

Not considering that the brat, with Squalo’s help, had taken him a birthday present… two beautiful hand-guns built with the ability to compress the flames into bullets. They were pitch-black, silenced, strong and had a carved Vongola crest on the handles. He later knew that Nono had helped them, too. Thank God, they did not throw him a party.

By the time the week for Tsuna’s birthday came, Xanxus had accepted he was wrapped around the child’s little finger. As were Nono, Lal, obviously Iemitsu, the maids, the butlers and the guards. He had entrapped them through and through. What a handful.


	3. 03 – Squalo

The first time he saw the child, Squalo wanted to kill him. He didn’t know why, he simply wanted to. It was instinctive, raw and wild. A feeling, an urge, like a hungry shark that wanted a prey. That needed a hunt.

Now, that was no news to him. He always sated these thirsts. The strange thing was… Child. Five-years-old. His Boss’ new interest. Okay, said that way, it seemed something totally different from what it was… Scratch that. His Boss’ new _distraction_. Yes, that fitted. Also, Nono’s protected. Iemitsu’s son. Lal Mirch’s mother-henned. Those pretty much summed up all the reasons why he could not lay a nail on the boy.

Plus. Why would a child raise his fighting instinct? Had he that much talent? Or was he an imposter, bound to reveal himself as a traitor… No, highly impossible. The former had more possibility of being true. Mostly considering his Boss’ behaviour.

At first, he had seemed taken aback. When Squalo approached Xanxus after the incident number one, the raven-haired had a thoughtful expression. Entirely different from when the determination about the coup d’état shone in his eyes. Yes, Squalo knew the true intentions of his Boss. He overheard him when the teen was blowing off steam in a training room. He knew better than to tell him, anyway. He loved breathing.

So, his surprise about the changed behaviour after incident number two was totally understandable. The determination was back, but Squalo _felt_ the shift in the objective. Incident number three quite explained the problem. Okay, Xanxus did not collect his pride to do it himself, but being _civil_ in the same room of Nono while _talking_ about a _delicate_ topic… Well, his Boss had earned a statue… Maybe the child, too.

Yes, because, after incident number two, Squalo had gone to him and _politely_ asked an explanation. That did the trick, apparently, but the child was still tight-lipped.

 

He cleared his throat and knocked at the boy’s bedroom. After a while, the door was opened and a pair of amber eyes landed on him. All the courage he had collected vanished in the pit of those orbs. He felt ravished, his insides out in the open.

“Si..? (Yes…?)”

“Uhm… I’ve no problem with Japanese.” Better be _polite_.

“Oh. Thank you… You are..?”

“Ah, yes… I’m Squalo, Xanxus is my Boss.”

At that, the child blinked and nodded. “I’m Tsunayoshi. Please, come in.” He shifted to the side and the silver-haired entered. “Take a seat.”

He did. The room was the norm, with orange as a main colour, armchairs around, a lit fireplace and a big bed.

“So… What do I owe the pleasure?” Ah, excessively polite.

“Well… I wanted to ask you a few questions.”

“About your Boss?” A flash of gold made him freeze.

“Yes.” He nodded, slowly blinking. “He’s changed after meeting you.”

“I see. You can ask, but I’m not sure if I can answer everything.” He seemed a bit uncomfortable in the armchair.

“I wanted to know what you told him.”

He stayed silent for some moments. “I offered him my help, simply.”

“And he accepted it..?” He said, surprised.

“Guess so…”

“What…”

“No, that I can’t answer.”

Darn. “Then… did you help him?”

“I did.”

“How…”

“Nope. Can’t tell.” Frustrating. “Why don’t you ask him?” Ha suddenly asked, tilting his head.

“Because…” … if he was lucky… “… he would send me to the hospital.” Squalo scoffed, sinking in the armchair.

“You sure?” The teen blinked. “You said he is changed, right? You could try.”

Uhm. Yes. He could. And pray for forgiveness. God forbids Xanxus understood Squalo was seeing him softening. But…

“I think he trusts you.” Tsuna continued. “He would not allow you to follow him, if not. In this case, you should offer him help, even if he refuses it at first. If you really want to be by his side, you should face his stubbornness and pierce through it.” The child smiled.

Squalo nodded, taken aback by the wisdom behind those words. … Well… An attempt would not kill him.

 

The attempt did not end with his corpse in a concrete column.

Squalo was following Xanxus to the Varia mansion when he gathered the necessary courage. He decided to be sneaky, at least.

“Boss, the guards are busy gossiping today?”

Xanxus snorted. “‘Bout me, I bet.” Snarky, but manageable.

“You?”

“Changed and shit.”

“Seriously?”

“Brat’s fault. Trashes love gossips.”

“Shall I shut them up?”

“Leave them be, I don’t care.”

Like that, he got daily snippets of his Boss’ thoughts. Incident number three happened, and he began following Boss around more. He ended up training with him and Tsuna, quite interesting. The patience Xanxus showed as much as the child’s quick learning and strength.

He experienced the mother-hen antics of both Lal Mirch and Iemitsu. Xanxus did not enjoy the idiot’s presence and Squalo could not help but agree. The man fawned over Tsuna, treating him like a child. Well, he was, but not at that level. Couldn’t his father notice the wisdom and pain in his eyes? Idiotic.

More than once, Tsuna had to stop fights against his father with puppy eyes and pouts. Squalo suspected the boy knew their weakness to those and used them only when in dire need. Xanxus kept blindly thinking the child was not aware of them. Bullshit. He didn’t tell so to his Boss.

He felt entrapped by the new pace Tsuna was giving them. Sure, not at the level his Boss was, but entrapped nonetheless. The guards, too. He had noticed them following the boy with their gazes and smiling back at his greetings.

He shuddered. Xanxus was rapidly being conquered by Tsuna. Was he the jealous type?

Poor _world_ …

 

“Timo-jii…” Squalo cringed at the nickname, almost letting his half-empty teacup fall. “Told me that, a week from now, is Xanxus’ birthday.” The assassin suddenly knew the implications of this topic being talked about… and shuddered. “From what he told me, I understand the way his flames work.” Oh, yep, training session always covered theory, too. “So… I asked about those guns Settimo (the Seventh) used.” And morning lessons were paying off, it seemed. “And he is seeing that they’re ready for that day.” Tsuna smiled. “You want to join in?”

That was pretty much how Squalo earned the first true smile out of his Boss’ stern façade. Tsuna’s merit, of course. He had to contact a sculptor.

 

When Xanxus told him about Tsuna’s birthday approaching, he felt that the sculptor was a bit… too much. And out of place, for a child. Squalo strolled through the mall for hours before understanding that nothing would pick up his attention. What could he buy a to-be six-years old?

Toys, no. Clothes, no. Food, no. Books? That could be an idea, but which? He had recently discovered that the boy had taken a liking to studying languages… Tsuna had almost mastered Italian, even if he felt visibly embarrassed talking like that. Children had frightening skills. He was covering English and Russian… Maybe a book in one of those languages?

For that, he needed internet. A threatening for a quick deliverance. And money was not a problem. Surfing the list of available books, he noticed a few that talked about ancient legends and folklore stories. He put a total of five in the cart and bought them. A trip to the office of the company and the threatening was done, too.

The box arrived at Varia mansion within two days, three away from the birthday. The books were in perfect condition and he let a maid wrap them up nicely in blue paper.

Meanwhile, Squalo kept an eye trained on his Boss. That was right about to explode when he brought the gift in his private rooms. And hid it, just to be sure… He side-stepped the idiot Prince’s traps, scattered all over the Varia mansion, and told the puppy-man to go away from his position to leave them alone.

He then knocked at Xanxus’ door and the crash of, probably, a bottle against some wall followed. Squalo took it as a permission. He entered and closed the door behind him, not moving more. The room was tidier than when he saw it the last time. No furniture was broken, maybe a bit displaced. The only thing broken was the bottle, and the little wine in it splashed on the white wall. Poor maids.

“What, trash.” Ah, he hadn’t called him that way in a while.

Xanxus didn’t like to be read. Telling him ‘You don’t know which present to buy Tsuna’ would have been like signing his own death. So, he proceeded to step on neutral battleground. By the way, there was a thing he would have liked to give the boy, but there were… problems.

“You remind Nono of Secondo. Tsuna reminds us of Primo.”

The widening of Xanxus’ eyes was hint enough that he had understood the implications of Squalo’s sentences. The smirk that followed was anything but reassuring. But it died when his Boss understood what he would need.

“The old geezer.”

Exactly.

The hand-guns Xanxus had received were made with Nono’s researches, powers and industries. He needed to ask him about something akin. And that brought a second problem… The reason why they were reminded of Primo, the reason why the idea was so fitting.

During training, when Tsuna risked being hurt, but mostly when Squalo or Xanxus missed a step when fighting between themselves, something kept happening, which had a dangerous explanation. The boy’s eyes would flash gold, like the very first conversation he’d had with him, and the flicker of something orange on his forehead would signal a frightening speed.

The first time it happened, Xanxus had let it slide and declared the training finished. After Tsuna had left, his Boss told him about the Hyper Intuition of Vongola. From that, Squalo understood what the ‘flicker’ was. Flames. Strong flames.

They had kept the subject ‘secret’, trying to adjust training according to the witnesses. But, if Xanxus wanted to go for that gift, he had to tell Nono. True, they were on less angsty terms, but this needed a whole different level. Squalo watched as his Boss thought it over, waiting to see if he was willing to go to this length for Tsuna.

The raven-haired huffed, stood, muttered a ‘follow me’ and exited the room. Before the assassin could understand where the car was taking them, he was standing in Nono’s office, hearing an interesting and unbelievable conversation.

“Tsuna has flames.” Xanxus sat, without a greeting, legs crossed. “He’s got Vongola Hyper Intuition, too.”

Timoteo blinked, astonished. “Oh…”

“I’ve seen the gold flashes in his eyes, stronger than yours.” He interrupted Nono. “I’ve seen the flicker of flames on his forehead, every time he rushes to save or protect someone.”

The old man swallowed, interlacing his fingers under his chin. “This is… Unexpected. Why haven’t you told me sooner?”

Squalo hid a flinch. Nice question. He himself didn’t know that. The answer Xanxus gave threw the two off.

“I didn’t want to share.”

Yeah. The jealous type. Squalo watched as Nono tried to hold back a chuckle. A glad smile surfaced.

“I see. And why are you telling me now?”

“Birthday present. Primo.”

The assassin could see the gears working in Nono’s eyes. “Nice thought. I’ll see what the researchers can do. They were clever with your guns, gloves won’t be a problem… Still, they will be… temporary. He’s just a child and we don’t know his element.”

Xanxus nodded, both in understanding and agreeing, before standing and opening the door, Squalo behind him. He stopped, however, briefly, looking at Nono one last time.

“Definitely a Sky.”

And left.

 

The little birthday party became a big birthday party when the guards, the maids and the butlers who were on break appeared in the large dining room. Xanxus, wine glass in hand, and it was already strange given it usually was the entire bottle, almost growled at the many people gathered. Nono just chuckled while Lal shook her head in mock exasperation. Iemitsu kept blabbing about his ‘cute, flabbergasting, friendly, kind Tuna-fishie’. Almost disgusting. If Squalo and Xanxus had not stopped him yet, the man had to thank his son’s presence and birthday.

Tsuna was mildly enjoying himself. Mildly. Because he seemed… Off.

Yes, he was smiling politely at everyone. Yes, he was eating delicious food. Yes, a mountain of different presents was on the table at his right, ready to be unwrapped. But.

The boy was not giving them a passing glance. He kept looking away every time he could, losing his focus. What was the party lacking? What was the problem? Even Lal Mirch and Nono were stealing worried glances.

Before Squalo could voice his thoughts, though, Xanxus detached his back from the wall he was leaning on and walked towards Tsuna. The assassin blinked and followed his Boss. The six-years-old was again looking away and didn’t notice them until Xanxus grabbed him from the back of the shirt and strolled in another room. Squalo stopped every attempt at following them.

The raven-haired slowly, because gently was not in their vocabulary, put Tsuna in an armchair and sat in front of him.

“What’s the problem, brat.” Not a question.

Tsuna gaped. Then dropped his gaze. And tears welled in his eyes. Now, they were assassins, Squalo could _not_ go hysteric. But he damn well bordered that. And Xanxus was not in a better shape. He had paled slightly.

“I…” A sniff. “I miss… my mom…”

Well. Shit. That explained it. Squalo scratched his nape, holding back a sigh. Xanxus was observing the boy with narrowed eyes.

“She…” A hiccup. “She used to… *sniff* Celebrate with me…”

It was not something they could help with. A mother’s loss… His Boss had explained him what had happened. Well, not exactly _explained_ , he had inadvertently answered some well-placed and unsuspicious questions. But that was not the point!

Squalo was at a loss. This was not a situation that could be approached with a procedure or by just killing. Hell, the one in question was already dead… The assassin was not acquainted with… Familiar issues. He did not have a family, abandoned at the door of an orphanage as an infant. He had never really blended in the institute. The other children were mostly… problematic. Black background or illness. He had run away at age nine. A Mafia group took him in for errands and he learnt from there the basics. Then, a downhill.

He had met Xanxus a year or so prior this whole… situation arose. And it was changing both a lot. For the better, sure. Because… Tsuna had this ability… To claim and attract to himself. To make others comfortable. To ease pain.

This time, it was the other way around. And there they were, frozen to the spot, watching the boy cry silently. Useless…

The assassin took a step to the child and knelt to his eye-level. If he needed… _comfort…_ he would have given him… _comfort_. He did the only thing he knew of. A hand on the other’s shoulder. He felt it was… not enough… But… It was something. The reaction, however, was not expected.

Slim arms circled his neck in a tight grip. His white shirt felt wet on the shoulder and he froze for a moment. Then, following the example, Squalo brought his hands on the child’s back and robotically brushed. He felt a tinge of warmth on his cheeks at the affection showed towards him.

The realization dawned on Squalo. Tsuna, for once, was _relying_ on him. So strange, considering how the boy was closed and collected. His pain was visible in his eyes, but nowhere more. Hard to see, harder to ignore once noticed.

Without words, because he didn’t have any to give, Squalo let the boy disclose and vent. Although it was silent, his mind was obviously filled. Maybe he had been holding back, not only for himself, but for his idiotic father, too. This was… a kindness that both of Varia members did not know. They do not do hold back.

After some more hiccups and sniffs, Tsuna let him go. Squalo looked at the other’s face. Wet lines were on his cheeks, eyes red and leaking nose. He took some papers from the near table and offered them. The child started wiping his face and blew his nose soundly. That was when banging came from the locked door of the party room.

Squalo snorted. Great. Now they would think that everything was their fault. Just great. He went to the door and leaned on it, just for precautions. After all, his Boss was still not done.

Xanxus had stayed silent, sat and hunched forward all the time, elbows on knees and fingers interlaced loosely. While Tsuna regained control and his face got a bit less swollen, his Boss lifted a hand slowly, as if unsure, and then got it to ruffle the boy’s hair. The act did wonders as Tsuna smiled brightly, truly. And melted them. Almost literally.

Squalo let the nuisances break down the door, shifting to the right. A mountain of guards, Iemitsu on the bottom, Lal and Nono standing behind the pile, crumbled to the floor. Tsuna chuckled, making his father puke rainbows. Honestly…

Fortunately, Tsuna had regained enough control and he felt a lot lighter, atmosphere speaking. No more looking away or losing focus… What they wanted. A thoughtless Tsuna. A happy child.

And when exactly had he gone from ‘kill on sight’ to ‘make his childhood nice’? As much as Squalo searched his mind for an answer, he didn’t really need it. So, he let the subject fly away from his ear and enjoyed the party, waiting patiently at Xanxus’ side.

With Iemitsu’s idiotic and eye-rolling antics, Lal’s fussing and mother-henning, the guards, maids and butlers disappearing to their positions and Nono sitting in an armchair with a glad smile, the evening passed by fast. After eating the delicious cake, Timoteo had seen to that, Tsuna was directed to the gifts by Lal.

There were clothes from the no-names, toys from Iemitsu – the _idiot_ –, a yukata from Lal, a bit too big overcoat from Nono with the note ‘for future events’ and a wink – suspicious. All followed by thanks and smiles. When all the guards were gone, Squalo locked the door and gave out his present. Tsuna was surprised and pleased, although he had mentioned with a blush that he still couldn’t read them. The assassin shrugged it off with a grin at the success.

Xanxus shoved him aside, in a gentler manner than usual, and produced a little black box from who knew where. Tsuna took it with a thanking nod, the brat had understood his Boss rather well. He unwrapped it carefully and let the paper slid on the table. There was a transparent box in his hands, in which two black leathered gloves with metal plates on the knuckles were laid.

The boy slowly lifted the lid and brushed a finger on the smooth material. He took the gloves and wore them, that fitted wonderfully his tiny hands. There were holes through which the tips of fingers passed and were uncovered. He looked cool with those.

“Primo…?” He asked, wide-eyed.

Xanxus nodded curtly. “You should learn to control your flames.”

Anything Iemitsu and Lal were going to say was shushed gently by Nono. Squalo smirked.

“Flames..?” Tsuna seemed confused.

Knowing his Boss’ hate towards speech, the assassin took charge of explaining. “What do you think it is that allows you to be so fast when trying to help someone?”

The boy blinked. “I… I only wanted to help.”

“You wanted it so strongly that you used your flames.” Squalo explained. “It’s something that you inherited from your… father.” He held back the ‘idiotic’ remark.

Tsuna looked at Iemitsu, that was gaze-questioning Nono, that was smiling at the child. “It’s true, Tsunayoshi. You have a gift and you need to control it, because it’s dangerous to let it go wild.” He turned to the angry man at his side. “Now, Iemitsu. He is your son, he needs your permission, I suppose.”

“But–”

“You know that he needs to learn. No matter how young, if he is strong as Xanxus states, then you have to think of Tsuna’s well-being.”

That did the trick. Iemitsu was crumbling to the ground. He looked at his son, that was patiently waiting, and nodded, defeated. Tsuna’s happy smile melted away all his anger. Lal smiled, she was convinced, too. Squalo was not worried about her, the woman was a lot more responsible than her Boss.

“It’s settled, then.” Nono clapped his hands. “Arrangements need to be made. I would leave it to you, Xanxus, but your flames work differently.” At that, his Boss snorted. “I’ll see who I can hire.”

“Is… it a problem…?”

“Oh no, don’t worry.” Timoteo crouched down, ruffling his hair. “It’s a pleasure.”

Squalo couldn’t hold back a grin.

And he couldn’t know who was Nono’s idea of a tutor.


	4. 04 – Reborn

Blood. Corpses. Twitching bodies on the verge of dying. Bullets’ holes in the walls. Rifles, guns, bats abandoned on the floor, rendered useless. No organs on display.

Chaos.

Neat Chaos.

Delightful.

Reborn took a deep breath before leaving the building. Mission accomplished. The fourth since the beginning of the month. A busy one, full of secondary Mafia Famiglie’s annihilations. Both tiring and thrilling.

But.

He was starting to feel bored. Month after month, year after year, he felt empty. The assassins were beginning to be really untrained, so low-levelled compared to himself. So, thrilling because there were many, but tiring and boring. There were no new tactics, no new weapons, no improvisations. They just followed the rusty protocol and were dead in a matter of minutes.

Reborn needed something new.

But he was a freelance hitman, what was he pretending, honestly…

He briefly texted his contractor to deliver the good news and got to his car. In less than an hour, he was at an apartment in Sicilia. A big, modern one. Reborn just went to the bathroom to get rid of sweat, blood and tension. For the latter, it worked next to nothing. He wore a white unbuttoned shirt and black pants, sitting on the couch to close his eyes for a bit.

A way to relax… Or blow off some steam… Maybe, a woman? Tch, they were too clingy and demanding. He didn’t need a _new_ reason of stress, thank you. Neither a man, they became chatty. He wanted silence. A spa tour, maybe… That could do something, but what about the workers? Whatever…

Perhaps, he should go visit Nono and use his mansion for some weeks. That was somewhat alluring.

His phone ringed and he blinked at the caller’s ID. Timoteo. Think about the devil… He took the call.

“Chaos.”

‘Ah, amico mio, come va? (Ah, my friend, how are things?)’

“Il solito. (The usual.) E lì? (And there?)”

‘Molto meglio. (A lot better.)’

Reborn arched a slim brow. “Davvero? (Seriously?)”

‘Si. Devi sapere che ho un nuovo ospite. (Yes. You must know that I have a new guest.) E ha bisogno di… come dire… una guida. (And he needs… how to say it… a guide.)’

“Una guida… Un tutore? Per cosa? (A guide… A tutor? What for?)”

‘Temo di non poterne parlare al telefono. (I fear I can’t talk about it via phone.) Ti dispiacerebbe raggiungermi alla magione? (Would you mind coming here at the mansion?)’

Reborn fell silent. Well, it was what he was planning to do. But, a tutor offer? He owed Nono one… Ugh, he could go, listen to the offer and enjoy the luxury for some time, what had he to lose? And, if Timoteo was willing to ask his best card for help, then the _guest_ was worth a meeting.

“D’accordo. (Fine.) Dammi 24 ore. (Give me 24 hours.)”

He clicked the phone shut without more words. He stood and strolled to his bedroom. The man had a journey to prepare for.

 

Vongola mansion had not changed one bit. It was the usual, pleasurable, dark building he remembered. The people, however, were a whole different matter.

It was barely nine in the evening. He had been taken from the airport by a limo Nono had sent. The first signal of something strange going on was the happy smile the guard had sported before noticing Reborn. The man had then assumed a professionally blank expression. The assassin had brushed it off as the guard reminiscing some romantical encounter. He couldn’t know how wrong he was.

Reborn exited the car and strolled to the entrance, where Nono himself was waiting. And not alone. By his side, arms crossed and frown in place, was Iemitsu. He was pouting as if punished for stealing a candy. Now, ignoring the idiot, whose presence was already giving him a headache, Reborn was more interested in the one on Nono’s right. Although as stern and rage-flaring as always, Xanxus was not one to stay put and _wait_.

Noticing the guards’ dreamy looks, Reborn’s thoughts were making a tornado. Was the tutor thing a made-up story and the problem was another altogether?

He walked up to Timoteo and shook the proffered hand. “Buonasera. (Good evening.)”

“Bentornato, Reborn. (Welcome back, Reborn.)” Timoteo urged him inside with no more explanations.

The two followed them, not dropping the behaviour. He soon found himself in the usual living room. Steaming teapots, ready teacups and a child.

…

A _child_?

Thin, baby fat lost, with a crop of wild brown hair and chocolate eyes. Eyes that were scanning him before locking his own. Reborn stood there, immobile, hands tucked in the pants’ pockets, shields building in defence to his mind. The boy arched a brow after a while, but smiled and nodded, closing the thick book he had been reading.

“Buonasera.”

The assassin nodded back before turning to Nono, a little exasperated. The man shrugged and offered a seat in front of his own. Reborn held back a sigh, but obliged. Iemitsu stayed standing, Xanxus sat near the boy… Okay, that was too much, he ignored it.

“First of all…” Timoteo began, speaking, oddly, in Japanese. “Presentations. This here…” He motioned to the child. “Is Tsunayoshi.” He looked at the assassin. “Tsuna, he is Reborn, a hitman.”

Though remorseless and bloody, Reborn didn’t like a child knowing of that. He was surprised, however, when the boy simply nodded. No eyes widening, no mouth agape, no fear in his lines. What the… Thank his poker face for not revealing his inner turmoil.

“And a friend of mine.” Timoteo added as a second thought. “Now, Tsunayoshi, could you please show him what you’re capable of?” He smiled.

The child nodded shyly and closed his eyes, taking calming breaths. Reborn had the brief time to wonder, again, what exactly was going on, before he reopened them. And the hitman was rendered speechless. The chocolate eyes had taken an amber hue, almost glistening, and there, on his forehead, a bright orange flame was burning.

Flames. Hyper Dying Will Mode. Without a bullet. Sky _pure_ flames. Called forth with meditation that had lasted less than a minute. What the fuck. What the actual fuck.

He turned to Timoteo, silently demanding an explanation. A _detailed_ one.

The other had the guts to chuckle. “Tsuna is Iemitsu’s son.”

Well. Shit. That, actually, explained _a lot_. Primo’s lineage. Seemingly out of nowhere, Xanxus produced two black leathered gloves, that Tsunayoshi slowly wore. They lit as if lights of a Christmas tree. The same flame that was on the forehead lit the clothe, not burning it. They felt warm, even if they were far from him, warm and… _accepting_. A true Sky.

Some awe must have shown on his face, because Xanxus was smirking smugly at him. The teen looked at Tsunayoshi and nodded, a signal that he could call back the flames. The boy let out a breath and smiled at Xanxus, that ruffled his hair.

Xanxus ruffled a child’s hair.

Xanxus.

A child.

Affection.

No, he was not prepared for this.

Reborn looked at Nono, that had a playful smile. “Tsunayoshi has been our guest for almost a year, now. I’ve arranged for him private lessons since the beginning. He’s been training for some months, too, under Xanxus. Lal Mirch and Squalo often help with it. During some sessions, they have noticed that, in dire need, he would use advanced speed and we witnessed the flickers of flames. Reminded of Primo, the gloves were made for him and, after that, we understood he needed someone to guide him. Meanwhile, Tsunayoshi trained by himself and was able to achieve this state.”

The boy was blushing under Reborn’s blank stare, fingers interlaced on his lap. Silence fell after the speech as the hitman mulled over the words.

Pure Sky flames. Control over achieving the Hyper Dying Will. A piercing gaze. Primo’s lineage. And resemblance, thinking about it. Training under Xanxus.

There were a lot of interesting variables, but… Not enough to pick his _total_ interest. He huffed before regarding Nono. He still wanted to use the mansion.

“So, you want me to tutor the kid.”

Timoteo nodded.

“I need more time.”

“You’re free to stay here at your leisure.”

Fair enough. Reborn nodded and a guard was instructed to lead him to his room. He sent a meaningful glance towards Iemitsu, before following the man.

 

The documents about Tsunayoshi Sawada were on the desk of his room the morning after. Reborn sat and carefully analysed them.

 

Tsunayoshi Sawada

Born on 14th October

Current age: 6

 

Mother: Nana Sawada; killed by Mafiosi in her house in Namimori, Japan

Father: Iemitsu Sawada: current Boss of CEDEF, Vongola Nono’s External Advisor

 

Physical description: brown messy hair, brown eyes, 1.15 meter tall

 

Personality: friendly, shy, protective, weak-minded, jumpy, sponge when learning, a bit slow

 

Background: grown up without knowledge of the Mafia; abducted at the age of five for five months; rescued and brought to Italy; currently living in Vongola mansion, trained by Xanxus and taught by a private teacher about any possible subject

 

Abduction details: Sawada Nana tried to protect him and was shot, he probably witnessed; taken to a safe-house nearby Kyoto; he has been fed worms and leftovers; sexual abuse once or more a week; not allowed to use a bathroom; payed ransom requests for four months; Sawada Iemitsu found the safe-house a month later; abductors killed

 

Changes after the abduction: the boy has become keenly perceptive, calm, collected; he doesn’t cry, doesn’t ask for help, doesn’t let anyone in; helps around, likes to read and strong-minded; he doesn’t like to recall any of his abduction experience, it happened only once with Xanxus and, for a fleeting moment, showed psychological pain; tightly bonded with Lal Mirch, Xanxus, Squalo

 

Arrangements: private lessons in the morning, training in the afternoon, reading in the evening; eats meals regularly in the living room, usually with someone

 

An interesting one, no use denying it. There was a lot to process.

First of all, the circumstances of his abduction. Not knowing of the Mafia world, the boy was the son of one of the most influential Mafiosi. Iemitsu, though, had not deployed any guards or spies on the house or his family. Utterly stupid, Reborn mentally noted to smack the man as soon as he could.

Back to the main point… During the abduction attempt, the mother ended up killed, probably in front of her son’s eyes. That was bound to leave a deep, still bloody scar. Not considering the sexual and physical abuse. Worms? No bathroom? Torture… For five months.

The changes were obvious consequences… Though, not like this.

True, after something like that, the victim either suicides or becomes stronger. Or… becomes a monster. But, this child was different. A child, too. He was a child that suffered the worst. Discovering the shit this world can give in such a way _is_ the worst way possible. At such an early age.

Despite all of this, he had come out of it not only stronger, but… kinder, in a way… More accepting, more clever and perceptive. And smarter, maybe.

There were no details on how and when the boy had managed to tame, because _befriend_ was a word that just did not _fit_ , Xanxus. Lal Mirch, deep down, was a kind woman. Squalo, Reborn didn’t know well. He had joined the picture not so long prior, maybe some months more than a year.

No, the one he wanted to focus on was Nono’s adopted son. Last time Reborn had checked, he’d been a time bomb. He remembered Timoteo talking about him. Prideful, arrogant, always angry, likes to fight. Time bomb fitted the teen _perfectly_. Xanxus, however, had showed his usual behaviour at his arrival, and _affection_ towards the boy. Perceptive didn’t exactly cover the ability to make someone like the teen keen on interacting with a child.

It was more than interesting. Endearing, he would dare say. He needed to know more. Asking Xanxus was asking for failure… or a smug smirk, considering the one he had already gained the evening prior. Maybe, he should try with Squalo. _And_ Nono. Later.

Reborn decided right away that he would not use the Japanese language. The boy knew some Italian, so he might as well test him already. On everything he could think of. From theoretical subjects to training preparation.

He knew Xanxus was strong, but knowing how to fight and teaching how to fight were two entirely different things. Reborn had to check for himself as soon as possible.

Also, a talk with the boy, preferably alone, was in order.

After using the private spa.

 

Reborn felt heavenly refreshed. His muscles were relaxed and felt less robotic. His expression was warmer and he felt more inclined to take care of this tutor offer.

Without further ado, he wore his usual black suit, orange undershirt, tie and fedora. Leon was still tired for the journey. The chameleon had preferred to stay hidden since arriving, so he left his companion sleeping and exited his appointed room. The patrolling guards gave him a respectful nod before passing past. He did not miss the lighter atmosphere surrounding the whole mansion.

Reborn walked to the living room, climbing down the stairs, and found it already used. Squalo was sitting in a couch, steaming teacup in hand. The teen, whose hair were past his shoulders, stood and gave his greeting. The hitman nodded in acknowledgment and sat in an armchair, taking a cup of coffee for himself. Deliciously bitter.

Squalo sat back, a bit nervous. Reborn took the golden chance to interrogate him.

“How did the kid tame your Boss?”

The teen spluttered. Thank God, he had not just drunk, or he would have been dead for dirtying his suit. Squalo took a deep breath and assessed briefly the hitman.

“I don’t know…” He shrugged after a while. “He just… did.”

Nice explanation. Reborn held back a scoff. Not really helpful. What was that supposed to mean?

“I can say, however…” Squalo began. “That Tsuna is really perceptive. He likes to help, regardless of whom and what the consequences are. Whatever piece of the puzzle you’re missing… You’ll find it soon. Just… try him.”

With that said, the teen put the empty teacup on the low table and excused himself. Reborn hummed, left alone in the room. Was it a thing coming from the purity of his flames? Or from his acceptance? Squalo gave the idea of a strong swordsman, a trustable Varia element, one that did not waste words. This time, though, he had tried to convey something that could not be transposed into words. A bit unsuccessfully, but… At least it was something more.

The door opened and Nono smiled at him before taking a seat opposite the armchair.

“Good morning, my friend. How are things going?”

Why was he so eager? “Can’t say for sure. What can you tell me?”

Timoteo took some tea and hummed. “Tsunayoshi is a shy one. He’s been left scarred by his mother’s death and Xanxus told me he is feeling guilty for not saving her. We think that’s the reason why his flames awakened, his desire to help and save… It’s unprecedented, as you already know. Considering the purity of the flames and the early age, I thought the best possibility for him to improve was you…” He sighed soundly. “Else… Those flames can turn into a grave danger for him. He’s too young. I’m afraid… If you won’t accept, I’ll have to seal them. I’d prefer not to.”

Sealing flames. Dangerous, problematic, a risk. Specially with the boy’s already vulnerable state. No, not weak. He was not, if his behaviour with him the evening prior was something to go by. But, vulnerable, yes. Because such flames are most likely to be almost impossible to control. The smallest flicker of uncertainty could result in death.

“I see.” Reborn sipped some of his coffee. “Do you know how he tamed your son?”

Timoteo chuckled, amused. “Tamed… What an interesting way to put it… No, Tsunayoshi did not tame Xanxus, he conquered him. Through honesty, I suppose, and true will to help. In our world, that’s a difficult thing to find, not wanting anything in return…”

He arched a brow, curious. “What kind of help?”

“With me.” The old man took on a sad smile. “I fear my son was planning something to take the throne from me. He’d discovered that he’s truly not related to me by blood. You know Xanxus…” Reborn nodded. “Well, after Tsunayoshi came to live here, things… changed. My son became more approachable and, with time, I was able to talk to him about it.” The smile was happier. “Can you picture it?”

Honestly, not at all. Not _civilly_ , anyway. The hitman put the empty cup on the table and hunched forward, fingers interlaced under his chin.

When meeting the kid, Reborn had immediately had the urge to defend his mind. The perceptiveness of his eyes… Was that really what did the trick? Was that the reason behind Xanxus’ taming? And Squalo’s? Maybe… or maybe it was deeper than that. There were things he didn’t know yet…

And Reborn was straying away from the ‘tutor’ path. Yes, he had to evaluate the boy and everything, but these… Were out of bounds, technically speaking. He was getting seriously _interested_ , wanting to admit it or not.

“What do you think?”

Timoteo’s voice brought him down from cloud nine. “Hard to say. What’s the problem with the guards?”

“Ah… They’re fond of Tsunayoshi, I suppose. He even received various gifts from them for his birthday.” Nono smiled. “Well, they sure are working better.”

The hitman wanted to scoff at that. Sure, one’s performance could be enhanced with relax or motivations, but it could also lead to distraction. Was it really a good thing?

“Where is the child?”

“Tsunayoshi is taking his private morning lessons. Do you want to assist?”

Reborn nodded. Both men stood and Nono led the way upstairs, through the corridor and in front of a double door. He knocked before opening it. The room was a study. Green walls covered by libraries, wooden floor with a white big carpet. The child, that was looking at them, was sitting in a chair in front of a wooden desk. A short man with sleek dark brown hair, narrowed blue eyes, wearing brown pants and a red cardigan, stood near the boy, pointing something on an opened book.

The child blinked twice before standing. “Good morning, Nono, Reborn.”

Aside from liking the use of Italian language, the hitman noted that he had initially started to bow, freezing and stopping immediately after. Polite. He nodded back.

“Good morning, Tsunayoshi.” Nono greeted. “Have you slept well?”

“Yes, Nono. And you?”

“As usual...” He smiled. “Now, I must go take care of some urgent matters. Reborn, here, will watch your lesson.” Nono explained. “I think he will follow you throughout the entire day.” The hitman nodded curtly in affirmation. “I shall take my leave then, good day.”

Timoteo stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. Reborn huffed and sat on a couch, crossing his legs and arms. He looked at the child, that sat and moved his focus on the book. Chemistry, apparently. The tutor was explaining the nomenclature, an easy feat… for a high school student. It was clear that the child was having his problems in understanding, but the document about him was right. He was a sponge. What was said once, he memorized and knew, but using it… was another matter. And the tutor’s reason of stress. He was trying to explain the mechanism, but the boy was only able to repeat. He couldn’t understand it. Reborn observed them for twenty minutes before deciding to step in.

He stood silently and only the boy noticed his movements, that earned him some points. The hitman took the book and hunched over the boy. He explained it his way, ignoring the glare he was receiving from the tutor. Instead of rage and stress, he tried to be slow and add examples of childhood, comparing the suffixes to toys and such. Surprisingly, the experiment went so well that the child was able to use the skill even on harder substances. That shut the tutor up and Reborn was forced to take his place for the whole morning. So, instead of tutoring, he tested the boy.

He asked a lot of theory and the child was able to answer everything. Whenever his voice sounded strained, Reborn caught on his inability to understand what he was saying and explained the concept. Every time, his face brightened in epiphany and his eyes glinted in understanding. He thanked the hitman endlessly, and that caught Reborn by surprise.

He was not used to be thanked. It was his job, he was paid for it… well, still not, because he had not accepted the job, but he did use the spa… Anyway. It was his job, he did not want nor expect gratitude. Nor the tankful and kind smile directed to a man such as himself. The boy knew he was a hitman, after all. Ah, but he had not batted an eye at the notion.

“You do not have to thank me.” He snapped, a bit rudely, after the nth time.

Tsuna simply blinked. “Of course I do.”

“I’m payed, I do not need your gratitude.”

“But I am grateful.”

A vein popped on his forehead. “You don’t need to be. Your gratitude is not useful to me.”

The child tilted his head. “It’s not a matter of it being useful or not. My… mother taught me to be polite and I will always be.”

There was a hidden sadness behind those words that Reborn understood and let slip. He couldn’t exactly counter them. Not without hurting the psyche of the boy badly. And he was already hurt.

Reborn felt defeated. “Fine. Just stop thanking me every time.”

The smile he earned was bright and so true that he didn’t believe it was addressed to something he had said. He never said kind words and those were not, damn it. Why did the child think they were?

When the lessons ended, it was lunchtime. The tutor had left them after two concepts, so the two exited the room and walked downstairs. Now, Reborn had made up his mind about Xanxus’ affection and everything… But seeing the boy run up to him, hug him and coming out of it not only unscathed but with _ruffled hair_ … Too much. He once again ignored the fact and sat at the table in the dining room. As did Nono’s son, Tsunayoshi and Squalo.

Surprisingly, in the middle of their lunch, Lal Mirch entered the room and nodded to him, joining them at the table. The maids hurried to settle plates for her, that ate with them. She exchanged a fine conversation with the child and Reborn observed them carefully. The attachment of the woman towards the boy was obvious, given her amused eyes and her relaxed stance. It was the other way around, too, because Tsunayoshi had that atmosphere of a real child talking to a mother figure.

A real child, huh? He had not resembled one till then. Well, how blame him after what he had gone through… And Reborn feared getting attached, too.

One thing was Nono. Lal was a woman, call it mother instinct or something else… But to get someone like Xanxus attached was on another level. And, considering Squalo’s words, it was some kind of hidden ability. Or, better, a group of abilities, such as perceptivity, kindness, acceptance, mute understanding. That was the reason why his mental defence had acted up out of pure instinct the evening before.

“Reborn.”

The hitman swallowed his pudding and looked at Lal with a nod.

“Will you watch the training?”

At that, Xanxus, that was listening to Tsuna’s description of his morning, perked up and looked at the two. Reborn nodded again. The teen smirked. Irritating.

“Then I will, too.”

The child looked at Lal. “You won’t participate today, Lal-nee?”

She smiled at him. “Not today, but I’ll watch and stay for dinner, okay?”

That was apparently enough for him. They quickly finished their lunch and Xanxus escorted them to the training room. Considering who was using it, Reborn was taken aback by how much it was tidy and still standing.

The child went to the centre and Squalo followed. The other three stayed behind, leaning on the wall. The shorter one smiled at the elder’s fidgeting and nodded. Squalo huffed, with pink dust on his cheeks, before both took an offensive stance. Surprisingly, the child stroke first.

He jumped forward and aimed a kick at the other’s stomach. Reborn started to compile notes in his mind. The speed was above average, his movements were swift but they lacked grace… Something, however, that Reborn could bring out and polish. Squalo gripped the leg and aimed his own kick to make him fall. The child used the held leg to propel a kick with the other foot, leaping into air and landing a scratch on Squalo’s retreating cheek. He freed the leg in the gained momentum and flipped backwards. The Varia Rain was smirking in a frightening way.

Reborn looked at the child and was surprised again when he noted that the abused one was still smiling. As if he had just accomplished something… And what? He glanced at Squalo. Back at the ch… Tsunayoshi. Yes, he felt he was right. Then, what had changed… Ah. Squalo’s behaviour. He’d been fidgeting. Now, he was smirking. Completely at ease.

The hitman frowned slightly. Did he know that he was currently under _his_ testing eyes? Apparently, not. He cared much more about…

Oh…. Here it was… The missing fragment. The care. He cared, he put the others before himself. That was the snippet he’d been missing. Obviously. Well, not that he could have understood right away….

In his profession, his well-being was _always_ put first. It was a priority. For the accomplishment of the mission. To return home… well… to his apartment, safely. To breath. He liked breathing. He liked living, even if his life was becoming emptier with every passing day. Empty and full. Full of missions. Assassinations. Impossible tasks. Just to… fill the emptiness. Uselessly.

Reborn shook himself from the reverie and watched the fight. Somehow, Squalo had landed a hit on Tsunayoshi’s left shoulder and right leg, the jeans and the black hoodie were dirty in those points. The teen, instead, had only the previous scratch. Neither was panting. Rather interesting, for a child.

“Activate your flames, Tsuna.” Squalo said, smirk never falling.

“Okay.”

The boy closed his eyes. Xanxus took the gloves from a pocket and launched them at him. Tsunayoshi caught them just as the flame on his forehead lit. He opened his eyes, not fully as always. Half-lidded, as the evening before. The orange blaze in his orbs signalled the Hyper Dying Will mode and the Hyper Intuition working together, hand-in-hand. Both trademarks for the Vongola.

Reborn briefly wondered if Xanxus understood what those signified for the Famiglia, before he wore the gloves. They ignited immediately and the hitman felt the tug, the welcome, the comforting heat, the encompassing acceptance. He looked at his sides. Lal Mirch was smiling affectionately, maybe reminiscing or drowning in the affection itself. Xanxus, instead, was smirking in raw satisfaction, as if it was him in the fight, showing off his newest move.

The doubt about the teen erased itself from Reborn’s mind with a vengeance. Xanxus knew _perfectly_ what those abilities entailed for the future of the Vongola. And, not only had he accepted the consequences, but he was _satisfied_. He wanted them to be, to happen.

In a blur for the untrained eye, Tsunayoshi and Squalo fought. The boy’s speed was faster than before, but could be even more so with the right training. And the same could be said for his instincts, hindered by inexperience, his accuracy, his thinking, his Intuition….

Oh, God… Now Reborn _wanted_ to train him. He sighed silently. He had crumbled after only a day, huh? Quite endearing. Still… A last proof.

Leon, that had joined him after lunch, slid to his hand and morphed into a gun. He aimed at the boy’s head, leaking some bloodlust. He shot.

What happened after was astonishing.

First. Xanxus tried to attack him with a fury that he had reserved only to Nono. Reborn dodged after shooting with a somersault, approaching the battlefield.

Second. Lal shrieked. … Lal _shrieked_. With her hands lifted. Ok, it was feeble for a shriek, but it was a shriek. Reborn had to tell this to Colonello. As soon as possible.

Third. Squalo had the time to think about moving in the trajectory and to start with his intention, but was late. And the desperation on his face was clear as water.

Fourth. Tsunayoshi dodged the bullet. Without a blink, without a glare, without fear, without delay caused by surprise. Almost as if he had expected it. Almost as if… He had been waiting for it.

Reborn stood, Leon morphing back on his fedora, and stared. The boy stared back, standing himself. A smirk bloomed on his lips, he couldn’t hold it back. Everyone was stilled by their exchange.

“Satisfied?” The boy asked.

“Greatly.” He supplied. “How did you know?”

“You’ve been wanting to try since the beginning.” He smirked, even if it was a bit too soft. “Will you tutor me?”

His own smirk widened. “I will.”


	5. 05 – Varia

The Varia mansion was no less than the Vongola mansion, if not a bit smaller. It was the same, dark, marvellous manor that fitted a dark prince such as himself greatly.

Prince the Ripper. He loved this name, this alias. Given by other people, yes, but so fitting. He knew. His knives were made to rip and slit and cause pain. His strings were perfect to make scratches, to tear the skin and to make the blood flood and stain and pool on the floor. It was easy and fun to jump in those beautiful, red, dense puddles, rich with corpses. Sublime.

The epitome of perfection.

Belphegor knew it was, in some weak idiots’ opinions, wrong. But he didn’t give a fuck. He loved the sight of blood seeping from nasty wounds, particularly if he made those wounds. He became mad seeing his own and loved returning the favour ten-fold. Oh, the joy, the delight in striking with that much acquired power. His blood held power. His royal blood was precious. Precious and powerful.

He understood his… perks were those of a sadomasochist. He had accepted it. And the teen didn’t give a fuck about those that pinpointed that fact right at his face. Actually, he couldn’t say that he was a _total_ sadomasochist. The term, he found out, had something to do about sexuality and be turned on by causing and experiencing pain. He was not.

No. Belphegor, instead, felt his lust for blood increasing at that, but not lust for sexual activities. He simply wanted blood and, seeing his own, triggered an even greater killing spree. He loved those moments. His opponents, not so much.

So… The question was… Why the hell was he seeing blood and… _panicking_?!

Seriously, his eyes, covered by his blonde bangs, were wide, like his mouth, with parted, dry lips.

How had it happened?

Oh, right. He’d been practicing all morning with his knives in the garden, thinking on a new trap to prank the shark. He’d been so focused, that he’d missed the limo entering through the gate and its occupants coming his way. He’d not seen the Boss, nor the World’s Greatest Hitman, nor the child.

So, in his frenzy, he’d used a knife with a string against them in an instinctive defence. While the child had dodged the weapon, he couldn’t have evaded the razor-sharp string. It had cut a superficial wound on his left cheek, blood seeping and dripping from his chin.

For the afore-mentioned question, several answers popped up in his genial mind. For example, his Boss was kneeling in front of the child, somewhat leaking killing intent towards Bel and sending him random glares. The World’s Greatest Hitman, Reborn, had narrowed his eyes dangerously at him while checking the boy in a seemingly uninterested way. His mind supplied another reason, anyway.

Bel was frozen to the spot. Bent knees, left foot slightly forward, arms held in mid-air, unblinking eyes.

“I’m fine, Xanxus-nii, it’s only a scratch.” The low, melodious voice said in slightly awkward Italian.

“Are you sure?”

Oh, hallucinations, too? Because. It was impossible he had just heard his Boss use a kind, whispered, caring tone… No way! … Right?

“Of course, I am.” The boy giggled with half-lidded eyes. “And don’t be angry, your family member didn’t do it on purpose.” He turned to Reborn. “You, too, don’t be upset.”

The hitman looked at the child and huffed. He approached and put a finger on the scratch. Yellow flames ignited on its pit and the wound closed swiftly. The boy blinked and touched the pinkish skin.

He smiled at the hitman. “Thank you.”

Reborn turned the other way. Xanxus stood, ruffling his mop of messy hair and gazed over Bel.

“You’re lucky today, trash.”

Someway, those words, void of the usual harshness, unfroze the Varia Storm. Bel stood straight and stopped gaping, finally. He nodded, shit-eating grin growing on his lips more out of habit than for true amusement. He looked carefully at the child through his bangs, trying to understand who this little bunny was.

“Hi, my name is Tsunayoshi Sawada, nice to meet you.” A small smile bloomed on the boy’s lips and Bel couldn’t help the warmth on his cheeks.

He mentally thanked his hair-style. “Hi, little bunny. I’m the Prince, Belphegor. Shishishi…”

“And Varia’s Storm member.” Reborn added.

Tsunayoshi blinked, tilting his head. “Then… Red flames?”

The hitman nodded, smirking. “Correct.”

“So… Squalo has blue, Rain flames.” He raised his right index. “Prince Belphegor…”

“Bel’s fine.” The assassin said before biting his tongue in retaliation.

He nodded with a smile. “Bel has red, Storm flames.” Middle finger raised. “I’ve yet to meet Sun, Lightning, Cloud and Mist.”

“Correct.” Reborn’s smirk widened, even if it had a soft edge.

“Where are your family members, Xanxus-nii?”

His Boss shrugged. “Somewhere around the mansion.” He _sighed_. “Follow me, little Sky.”

As if in trance, Bel followed, too, earning an arched brow from Reborn.

 

Lussuria squealed.

Like, seriously, this child was the cutest _boy_ he’d ever seen!

Big, round, caramel eyes that pierced your soul. Soft-looking, gravity-defying, light brown mane of hair, with little, stray strands on his ears. Pinkish, chubby cheeks that had lost the baby-fat. Thin but tight muscles that were undergoing training. Black hoodie with a lion on the back, jeans and boots that framed the pictures perfectly.

He couldn’t stop himself. Lussuria threw his arms around the child before his Boss could put himself in the line of fire… metaphorically speaking. Lussuria ignored on how many levels the word ‘Boss’ and the concept of ‘protecting’ made a dissonance in the same sentence and hugged the life out of the little boy.

“Soooo cuuuteeeee!!! Uhmmmmmm….” He squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring again an unmistakable sense of danger creeping up his spine. “It’d be even a piiiiity to add you to my collection… Uhmmmm…”

The boy gave weak pats on his shoulders. Lussuria interpreted the motion as a request for air and gave another squeeze accompanied with a hum, before letting him go. He instantly breathed deeply, pink returning with a vengeance to his cheeks. Lussuria started to pinch them softly, humming again.

“Who are you, cutie? Uhmmmm… I’m Lussuria!”

The child gave a weak smile. “I’m Tsunayoshi Sawada, pleasure to meet you…”

“Oh? Japanese? Tsu-chan it is, then! Oooo and you’re so polite, too!!”

He tried to hug the boy again. Tried.

His arms turned to hug himself. Lussuria blinked, gazing upwards. Tsu-chan was held high by no other than the World’s Greatest Hitman, Reborn. He blinked again, standing. He noticed even Belphegor was there and their Boss was… holding back his anger issue.

Interesting.

Lussuria licked his lips, crossed an arm on his stomach and held his chin with the other hand. “Soooo, Boss, what’s the event?” He then noticed Tsu-chan pouting childishly at Reborn… well, at Reborn’s arms still holding him, and lost again his cool. “So cuuuuute!!”

He tried to snatch the boy away, but the hitman swiftly bended his arms to evade the act. Tsu-chan pouted even more.

“Guess the element.” He said in his deep baritone.

“Ah… uhm…” His eyes flashed orange for less than a second. “Sun, maybe…”

“Bingo!” Lussuria cheered.

“But, Reborn… How come you and… Lussuria have the same…….”

The hitman interrupted him. “Do not mention it again. Ever.”

Tsu-chan giggled. Lussuria squealed.

 

Leviathan strolled through the main corridor of the Varia mansion. Some men had told him that his Boss had returned with guests. In his personal vocabulary, that meant enemies.

Varia had a lot of enemies. His Boss was strong and accomplished missions with ease, sometimes with bloodbaths or humiliating the target’s men. That was obvious source of jealousy, envy, desire of vengeance, desire to kill or hinder. It was his duty to fend off those enemies.

He was supposed to draw the damage to himself and shield the Famiglia. Well, he cared only for his Boss. Every order, every duty, every mission his Boss assigned would be carried on flawlessly. With a following neat report in his clean hands.

Checking his uniform, he dusted off some invisible dirt on his pants. He needed to be perfect to not shame his Boss. These guests could be enemies, but they were currently guests. They were to be treated with utmost respect and hospitality, especially considering it was the Boss himself accompanying him.

Still walking, after climbing down the stairs, he wondered who might they be. Some allied Famiglia’s Bosses? Hitmen applying for the Cloud position? Or someone from the Vongola mansion?

Lately, his Boss passed most of his time there. He didn’t know why, but Squalo was mostly with him, so it was fine. And Leviathan knew his place, he was in no position to question his Boss. He wouldn’t dare, anyway. Even if his temper was starting to be refrained, strangely.

His Boss cussed and crushed things a lot less than usual. His wrath was quelled, who knew by what. Maybe Squalo did, given he had not the surprised expression of the other elements.

Some sounds, obviously Lussuria’s squeals, he identified, made Leviathan change his course from the meeting room to the living room. He had to check, at least. They had guests, it would be impolite if they heard such disgraceful shrieks.

He opened the door. And was met with a strange sight.

Lussuria was trying to snatch a _child_ from the World’s Greatest Hitman’s hands. His Boss, instead, was glaring at his Sun and Storm. Belphegor’s annoying grin was not at his peak. He couldn’t not gape.

His, a bit idiot, mind supplied an analysis of the scene. Reborn and the child were the guests, if his Boss was present. No Bosses, no allies, a hitman that did not relate himself with a Famiglia, a boy.

A boy that was looking at him with a pout. A pout that requested help. A help that… Leviathan wanted to give. A glare, however, stopped his moving limbs. His Boss’ glare. A glare that said, in his personal vocabulary for glares, that he better stayed away from the little Sky.

He obliged. Going to his Boss’s side. The battle for dominance over the child didn’t stop. But the child spoke.

“Hi.” He waved. “I’m Sa–… No, I’m Tsunayoshi Sawada. Nice to meet you.”

Politely, he nodded curtly. “Leviathan.”

“Guess who.”

“I’d say…” An orange flash passed through his eyes. “Lightning?”

“Correct.”

Leviathan’s stoic face didn’t make surprise easy to discern. But he had a feeling the boy’s smile at him was a knowing one. Reborn’s smirk was, too… And his Boss’.

 

Viper was frankly surprised.

In the latest two months, his workload had been cut down. Not by the Boss, of course. That one would never do that for anyone. Instead, the reason lied in a more suppressed wrath.

The bills for destroyed furniture, stained fitted carpets, crumbled buildings, dead maids and butlers, injured allies and finished stacks of wine had decreased exponentially. And that meant a lot of things. The Boss was passing a lot of time at the Vongola mansion, but Viper knew he did not drink the wine there unless they had a definite brand, or he was angrier than usual.

So, Xanxus was drinking less, was destroying less, was angry less and was going on missions less.

Normally, the Boss was known for his desire to stay away, not to stay at that mansion. Main reason, his father. Viper was not stupid, he knew about the intentions of Xanxus to carry on a coup d’état. Maybe he had to thank his hacking skills or his understanding of him, whatever.

What he didn’t know was why the idea had been thrown through the window. Nor when, exactly. But the change had hit Squalo, too. And had to do with something at the Vongola mansion.

He was deadly curious about these changes.

However, he was not paid to get interested in the Boss’ affairs. If an affair it was… The possibilities were high. But, Viper honestly thought it wasn’t so simple. Anyway, it was not his business. If it concerned a mission, then good, but it didn’t, so he had to not care.

Really, finally he could tell he was paid rightly for what he did, given the less workload.

The dark green frog hopped off his hooded head to land in front of the door of his room. The only left room tidy enough to be called so, anyway. Arching a brow beneath the shadow of his hood, he stood.

“What’s out there, Fantasma?”

A low croak was his answer.

Viper huffed. “Let’s see, then.”

He walked to the door and opened it. There was no one. Fantasma jumped away through the corridor and the Varia member followed her. They had almost reached the stairs to the ground floor when someone entered their sight. The Boss was leading a group of people. There were Belphegor, that was grinning in a softer manner than usual, Leviathan, whose stoic expression was cracked by surprise, Lussuria, that was fawning over a child, the afore-mentioned strange child, that immediately looked at him, and… Reborn, that was at the boy’s side, as if ready to protect him.

Fantasma jumped promptly on the child’s head with a croak. The boy tried to look up at her and lifted a hand, patting her head softly. Reborn had his usual smug, hateful smirk on his lips, locking gazes with Viper in a silent threat.

_‘Behave.’_ He seemed to whisper.

The child took Fantasma in his hands and walked up to him. “She is your companion, right?” Viper nodded slowly. “Hi, I am Tsunayoshi Sawada, nice to meet you.” He let the frog hop on his perk.

“Viper is my name, the pleasure is mine.” He tried. “Why are you here?”

“Oh... Reborn said he wanted me to see the Guardians of a Sky.” His eyes flashed orange for a moment. “You’re Xanxus-nii’s Mist, right?”

“Correct.”

“Then… The only one missing is… Cloud?”

“That’s a difficult one to find, little Sky.” Xanxus offered. “I don’t have one yet.”

“Oh…” The child went up to the Boss and patted his arm. “You’ll find one.” He smiled.

Xanxus simply ruffled his head affectionately. And Viper decided that, definitely…

“I’m not paid enough for this.”

 

Reborn felt tired.

And had an impellent urge to place several bullets in several heads.

Because.

This chaos was not his idea of torture-tutoring chaos.

After their trip to the Varia mansion, Xanxus’ Guardians visited. At least once a week. If not daily.

This day was one of those… everyone was over at the Vongola mansion. Lal Mirch and Iemitsu included.

“… and Nono proposed him to live here.” The woman was saying. “I still don’t know why he accepted, back then…”

“Better here than at CEDEF’s headquarters.” Reborn sipped his wine. “But Tsuna couldn’t have known this.”

“Exactly… And when did you start calling him ‘Tsuna’?” She teased.

The hitman huffed. “After he insisted for an entire week, no-stop.”

“Oh, so you _have_ a soft spot for him, too.”

Reborn ignored her. In favour of checking with his gaze on a certain child.

They were in the garden. The two Arcobaleno were sitting at a little round table, drinking fine wine. Obviously, the best of the best, given they were in Italy and at the Vongola mansion. The sun was giving space to the night, setting slowly. It was a bit cold to be outside, but… the problem was the destruction that always followed these days.

Currently, Tsuna was petting Leon and Fantasma. The frog had her eyes closed, bathing in the strokes, while the chameleon was on his back, having his stomach caressed. The two had a strange attachment to the child, and that was the main reason why Viper himself visited. Instead of joining the battle, he preferred continuing his job as treasurer even in those occasions. He was sitting on a nearby table, typing on his laptop. But Reborn had caught him gazing over Tsuna more than once. The stubborn idiot…

Well, he wasn’t one who could talk, anyway.

That much he could admit… In his mind.

Tsuna was sitting on a step of the stone stairs. He was wearing a warm, long coat and his gloves, puffing hair in-between his hands. Fantasma hopped on his head with a croak while Leon morphed into a green scarf and enveloped his neck. Tsuna giggled, maybe ticklish, but smiled in thanks, stroking slowly the morphed chameleon.

Reborn’s lips twitched a bit upwards. It was strange, not feeling jealous because his companion was giving his attention to someone else. But, he’d had two weeks to adjust, so… He was also used to it.

What he was still not used to, was the mayhem Varia brought.

A bit further than Tsuna, Xanxus was fighting Belphegor and Lussuria. Both sides were on a tie, landing punches and kicks but dodging the more dangerous hits. Leviathan wanted to intervene in his Boss’ favour, but Xanxus kept launching glares at him.

How had they come to that?

Tsuna.

Lussuria wanted to cuddle the child endlessly, even if he had had his daily thirty minutes. Belphegor wanted to play with him, not in the innocent way. Reborn had understood two days after their first meeting that the Storm had an interest towards Tsuna’s strength. He watched him like a predator eyed its prey. Xanxus had noticed that, too.

So, the threat plus Xanxus wanting exclusive attention made the Varia Boss angry. And Lussuria joined the picture demanding more cuddles. Leviathan felt like shielding his Leader, even if Reborn had a suspicion that the man, too, wanted to protect Tsuna.

Squalo was the only sane one. He evaded getting involved even when they threw things at him. Maybe because he thought that the battle was useless… Or because he just enjoyed the show. Either way, he preferred looking out for anything that _accidentally_ managed to endanger the child. A good bodyguard. Yells of ‘VOOIII’ aside.

The results were: destroyed statues and balustrade, ruined garden and bushes, broken windows of the mansion, dissolved gravel paths, flying chairs and tables. The only ones who were really making use of the battle were Fantasma and Leon.

Thank _God_ , Iemitsu was busy with Nono.

“He has them all wrapped around his pinkie.” Lal snickered.

“Almost.” Reborn groaned. “And that’s not helping with the training.”

“Do you want to use CEDEF?”

“That could only worsen things. Starting with Iemitsu’s ever present idiocy.”

“Though I agree, Iemitsu has still done the right thing.” She whispered. “Anyway, I can see your point.”

Viper perked up. “What point?”

Belphegor crashed between their tables, destroying the stone path. He stood and jumped back in the fight.

The hitman wanted to sigh. “Imagine this…” He waved a hand at the battlefield. “… moved to CEDEF.”

“It would give our recruits a heart attack, seeing Varia coming as a battle party.” Lal giggled with a hand covering her mouth.

“Tch… I’d prefer not coming to CEDEF.” The man returned to his laptop.

“You’d still come.” Reborn commented with a smirk. “And the problem still stands.” He quickly added.

He caught a debris with his free hand. The man arched a brow and launched it at Lussuria’s face. The assassin took personal offence but misunderstood and hit the self-proclaimed Prince.

“They certainly hinder your job.” Lal hummed. “What were you going to do today?”

“I covered some subjects this morning and explained the way his Hyper Intuition works. The idea, then, was to let him understand while using it, but…”

“Varia happened.” Viper helped.

Xanxus’ flames shot over their heads, causing some welcome warmth.

“I would use them if they were not so focused on gaining Tsuna’s attention.”

Lal looked at Reborn. “Is this jealousy I hear?”

The hitman scoffed, filling once again his glass. “Pot calling the kettle back.”

“Riiight.” She snickered. “So, what’s your plan?”

Few moments passed, filled by crashes and creaks and yells. “I have something in mind.”

“But?”

“But…” Reborn huffed. “Iemitsu won’t like it.”

“Ask Nono and Tsuna.” Lal offered. “If they both agree, Iemitsu will, too.”

As if called, the idiots’ representative jumped in the battle, earning various yells and sighs. Varia didn’t exactly like him, either. All the more if he kept calling his son ‘Tuna-fishie’ with a dreamy look and pooping rainbows.

He nodded in agreement. “Maybe… Tsuna.”

The child, that was giggling again at the sight of his father, turned immediately towards him. Reborn motioned for him to come near and he did. Leon-scarf looked at him silently while Fantasma continued to sleep.

“Yes?”

“Do you like to travel?”

Tsuna blinked. “I… I’ve not travelled before, I don’t know…”

“You’ve come to Italy, right?”

“Oh, yes…”

“How was your experience?”

“Uhm… Instructive.”

Reborn smirked. “Don’t you want to become stronger?”

A flash of orange passed through determined eyes. “I do.”

“So, what about travelling to train in peace?” He whispered, as to not be heard by annoying, still fighting people.

The swift nod he received was all he needed and what he had not expected. Reborn recalled Lal saying the same thing happened about living in Vongola mansion.

“Well, well, such interesting conversations….”

Reborn nodded and straightened in his seat in respect for Nono. Tsuna gave him a hug and pleading eyes. Unconsciously, of course.

“I see.” He said, sitting near Lal. “So, you’re trying to escape with Tsunayoshi.”

Well. That was a surplus. Whatever. The child sat, too.

“I can’t train and tutor him with everyone interrupting us every day.” He said, crossing his arms.

“Ahaha… True, pity.” He smiled. “Well, Tsuna has already agreed to it. Uhm…” He pinched his chin. “I’d suggest… If you really want peace, then you should elope?”

Lal snickered, but had a dark aura around her. Tsuna blinked, not knowing that word. Reborn ignored his own knowledge.

“You’re suggesting not telling the… Iemitsu?” Ugh, damn children filter.

Nono nodded. “Let me deal with him. The less people know about you two, the better, right?”

Reborn nodded while a stone bench flew over their heads.

“They will search for him as soon as they know he’s not here.” Viper said, looking at the hitman.

“Another way to train him.”

Tsuna tilted his head. “Hide-and-seek?”

Lal and Nono chuckled. Reborn smirked.

“Hide-and-seek. With Mafia being It.”


	6. 06 – Fon

Poyang lake was the largest freshwater lake in China. It was the perfect habitat for thousands of migratory birds and hosted several Siberian cranes during winter. It was also fed by several rivers. The most interesting part, however, was about its stories.

The lake had a sinister fame and was called the ‘Chinese Bermuda Triangle’. The reason why was actually really simple to guess. Many ships had disappeared while sailing in it throughout the years. An example was the Imperial Japanese Navy ship, which carried loot from the Japanese Occupation of China. It had vanished without a trace with 200 sailors. And even the subs sent to search for the ship had not returned, except one, that was terrorized. But that is only one example. In the span of thirty years, it was estimated that 200 ships and 1’600 people had disappeared, while about 30 people had come back with mental disturbs.

Due to the construction of the Three Gorges Dam, the lake suffered a heavy shrinkage. Not only had it undergone drought, but the men’s work had lessened by more than half its original volume of water. At that time, vegetation had covered with greenery the dried terrain… and the surfaced shipwrecks. Even a bridge of over 400 years prior, built and then forgotten in the era of Emperors Ming, had surfaced. It was entirely made of granite.

Anyway, thanks to a certain someone, Poyang lake was again at its best. But that’s a story for another time.

West of the lake stood Lushan mountain, also known as Mount Lu, or as Kuanglu in ancient times. It reached 1’474 m above the sea, towering above a surface made of clouds. Though true it was a prominent tourist attraction and seat, on its slopes, of the Buddhist temple, Dongling, Mount Lu was also a dangerous place. Enchanted because of its sights, adventurous for its cliffs and interesting for its species, flora and fauna. But not only.

It was dangerous. Because of creeks, caves, wide trees and secret passages, it was a highly wanted place to _hide_. From the world, from assassins, from family, from ties. A good place to _disappear_.

And God only knew how much Fon needed to.

As unsightly as that act may seem for an Arcobaleno, the best of the best. Everyone has a weakness. Fon’s was his family, his dear brother, sister-in-law and nephew.

He had not made it in time for them all.

The Triads had not taken lightly his departure. He had decided, after talking with his brother, to detach from them, finally. They had known the consequences, they had been ready to counter them but… too many, too many…

Fon had arrived in time to save only Kyouya.

Barely in time. Some men had been pointing guns at him. The child, 8 years old, had faced the weapons with determination, teary eyes filled with the images of his dead parents. Fon had seen red and snapped their necks flawlessly. Then, Kyouya had looked at him. He knew how to interpret his expressions by then, having seen him grow up. Sadness, pain, anger. He couldn’t have done more than hug him and bring him somewhere safe.

Thus, Mount Lu had come to his mind. Back when he had still been in the Triads, he’d come to know that, secretly, the higher-ups had had a lot of ‘accidents’ in the area, Poyang lake included. They didn’t know Fon knew, so… even better.

Currently, Kyouya was sleeping in his arms, completely exhausted because of the events and of the journey. Fon brushed a hand on his raven hair and smiled softly. If that child was not a good enough reason to become a hermit, then nothing was.

The martial artist began again his walk up the mountain, through the thick forest. He felt a bit tired, but it wasn’t the time to rest. He had things to do.

First, reach the summit. When he’d come across the valuable information about the Triads and this place, he’d made his own research. And an exploration. Turned out it had been the designated place for Daoist monks and Buddhists. He’d found a ruined temple at the summit. Ruined, but fixable. Perfect and hidden by vegetation.

Second, clear the mountain. He had seen several hideouts here and there. They had to be _cleaned_. And, to make it… ‘final’… he would use an ancient legend. Or, more specifically, he would revive one and make it real. And that was...

Third, embody a demon. It was said that, in ancient times, on the mountain lived a demon, Huangfu, literally meaning ‘Yellow Father’, that brought epidemies. There were stories of others, but this… This one was the most usable, given Fon’s love for poisons. Sooner or later, he expected the Triads to suspect his whereabouts, mostly considering that _everyone_ daring to trespass in the near future would have ended up with strange epidemic symptoms. Taking into consideration the layout of the mountain, whose path up was only one, there would be waves of men, not too many a times. So, the answer would be: waves of poison, different every time. Oh, but to do that…

Fourth, or maybe third… well, in the midst, catalogue and use every species present. He was an herbalist, after all, thanks to his interest for poisoned darts and needles. So, not only plants but animals, too. Lichi would have helped in hunting and gathering.

And those were his plans. Fon glanced at Lichi, that was carefully checking his surroundings. His companion patted slightly the man’s shoulder in understanding. Fon smiled softly, despite the times to come were not going to be easy.

_‘For Kyouya… for Kyouya.’_

 

His plans had gone _perfectly_. There were still no sights of the Triads, but he had successfully brought the demon alive. He had heard the monks from the temple of Dongling talking about a curse. They were trying to exorcise the evil. He had laughed a lot at that, after reaching his… their safe heaven.

It was a miniature of the Dongling temple’s main hall, but had an older air around itself. A stone staircase covered by ivy with two little shi’s at its sides, old and a bit ruined. Vegetation all around was thick and high, covering the entire area. The building was two-storied, with enough place for makeshift kitchen, living room, two bedrooms and bathroom. Red, traditional roofs adorned the building. Truly not enough for a good living in the 20th century, but… Kyouya was only complaining about his lack of documentaries. They didn’t even have electricity, dear Lord…

He brought the gathered plants inside and found Kyouya engaged in a glaring contest with Lichi. He sighed. This was not the first time. Apparently, the child could not decide if his companion was a carnivore or an herbivore. He left the basket in the kitchen and turned to Kyouya.

“What about a spar, Kyouya?”

He had tried to teach him Chinese but… He was not exactly interested. Pity. He had a wonderful mind. Anyway, Fon earned a softer glare and a curt nod. He smiled.

“Then, outside.”

Well, Kyouya was surely strong. Even if Fon tried to hold back completely, the boy’s strength and threating eyes brought a fraction of his survival instinct back. And desire to defend with it. The first time, about a week after moving there, he had suggested a spar, a month prior, Fon understood the urgent need to train the untamed blood thirsty child.

They exchanged several kicks and punches. Fon made it so to force his nephew to move into determined stances of martial arts. He didn’t notice, of course, but the child was getting used to those stances and movements, remembering them better as days passed by. He had tried the traditional way… It had not gone well… Kyouya had frowned for an entire day, expressing his dislike for such methods with his eyes alone. If he had not known his nephew, he would have said it was a sulking day…

A creak made him surface from his memories and Fon tensed, blocking Kyouya’s punch.

“Go back ins–”

“That’s not necessary.”

Fon knew that voice. A deep, silky baritone that had ladies on waves crumble on its owner’s feet. And gentlemen, if that was not already a lot…

He turned swiftly, letting go of Kyouya’s fist and hiding him behind his legs. “Reborn.”

“In the flesh.” The smirk only secured his guess.

“How did you…”

“Quite easy, you know. The best place to hide is near your enemy, the latest he would search.” The hitman was wearing his usual suit and fedora. “A bit of hacking did the trick to find the exact location.” The shirt was unbuttoned on the neck, tie loose, probably because of the heat.

“And… On whose request did you search for me?” Fon made a little step back.

“Obvious.” Leon-gun appeared in his hand, tilting his fedora up. “On the Tri–”

While the martial artist was already thinking of a way to escape, even if his odds were scrawny – that _was_ Reborn – a tiny child made his appearance behind the hitman with a pout and a shove.

Fon froze.

A child.

An Asian child.

A cute child.

With Reborn.

…

Had just _shoved_ Reborn.

He blinked.

“Reborn, you’re evil.”

“Why, thank you.”

“You shouldn’t, he’s terrorized!” He crossed his arms on his chest.

“Tsuna, leave me my enjoyment…”

“I do, but this is a bit too much, didn’t you see the boy?”

Reborn’s eyes flickered to Fon’s legs. He nodded before looking again at… Tsuna?

“He’s trying to protect him, don’t be too sadist with them. They have obviously gone through a lot.” He smiled. “Plus, isn’t he your friend?”

And Reborn _sighed_.

“Fine, whatever…” He muttered, before looking at Fon. “Sorry, bad joke. I’m here on no one’s request but mine.” He clarified.

Reborn slowly arched a brow when he received no answers. Fon was just staring at him, gaping and unblinking. He waved a hand at him. Nothing.

“Fon, are you there?” Visibly exasperated, he looked at the child. “Maybe it was too much…”

“Told you so…” Tsuna walked up to the man and gently tugged at his sleeve. “I’m sorry for my tutor’s behaviour. We’re here to seek a bit of peace to train.”

Fon stared at the child. He slowly closed his mouth and swallowed.

“… Tutor?”

Tsuna smiled brightly. “Yes!”

Fon wanted the dream to end.

 

“So… Vongola Nono appointed you to train and tutor the son of CEDEF’s Boss.”

“That’s it.” Reborn sipped the green tea mournfully.

Fon blinked, sitting on the makeshift sofa. “Why?”

The hitman huffed. “Because he has flames. Sky.” He paused. “The purest I’ve ever seen.”

“But… He’s already able to use them?” Fon was surprised.

“Yes, Tsuna?”

The child’s head quickly appeared in the doorstep of the temple. “Uhm?” He was slightly dirty.

“Show him.”

He nodded, entering the room. The boy closed his eyes just when Kyouya entered, too, a bit dirty himself. An orange, bright, _pure_ flame appeared on the brunette’s forehead. His eyes opened to reveal clear amber and a personality slightly, if not a lot, different from before.

“That’s eno–”

Fon lifted a hand, stopping Reborn. Something interesting was happening and he brought his friend’s attention to the children. Kyouya had touched softly the flame. Tsuna was staring in his eyes, contemplative. His nephew stared back while playing in the fire with his fingers.

“Warm.” He said.

Tsuna smiled. Fon _felt_ the all-encompassing harmony of a powerful Sky envelope the entire building and couldn’t help but gape. Reborn was exasperated, brushing a hand on his eyes. Leon flickered his tongue in the air, a bit irritated at being discarded.

Kyouya’s lips twitched upwards, a smile in Fon’s vocabulary. “Warm.” He repeated, getting closer.

A flash of gold passed through the brunette’s eyes. “I lost my mom… Someone told me she is happy I’m safe.” His smile softened.

And then, as if a lid had been opened, his nephew’s cheeks got signed by silent tears. His eyes were red and sadness had surfaced, even if hard to recognize. Tsuna slowly circled him with his arms and Fon was surprised to see that the child, too, was silently crying. The flame disappeared as Kyouya _let_ himself be hugged. The martial artist felt his own eyes get teary at the sight. He had decided against bringing up the subject with him, because his nephew had always been hard to understand and he couldn’t have predicted the outcome.

This… was what he had hoped for.

A cough made Fon turn to Reborn.

“That’s the proof of why we are searching for peace.”

Fon blinked, confused. “Excuse me?”

Reborn sighed, _again_. “His Intuition is strong and always right. Stronger than Nono’s, I’d say. The result is…” He moved his hand to the hugging children. “This happens with everyone. Even _Xanxus_.”

Oh… Well… No wonders. He had heard something about the… teen, wasn’t he? Rage embodied.

“So, Varia, the guards, the idi–…” He glanced at Tsuna. “Iemitsu, Lal, Nono… Everyone kept interrupting the training and the tutoring almost every day. I’ve abducted him and travelled here and there.” Leon morphed into a pack of handkerchiefs after approaching Tsuna. “However, Varia and CEDEF actually used their abilities and tracked us everywhere. Lal and Viper couldn’t stop them forever. “

“And you’ve tracked me.” Fon hummed. “Leon still reflects your–”

“Shut up.”

He had to hold back a chuckle. “You want to stay here?”

“For the time being. And, if you help me training him, I’ll help in making this… temple… more comfortable.”

Fon smiled at that. “Deal.”

 

Fon was, actually, happy… and still surprised. Though Kyouya was in denial about his growing attachment to Tsuna, very much like a certain hitman, the martial artist had accepted that he was slowly falling in the brunette’s pace.

Tsuna was… Tsuna.

A hurricane of empathy and acceptance, mixed with dangerous Intuition and raw determination. For what, Fon was dubious.

A week had passed since their arrival. Leon was almost always working to make new things for the temple. He had started with solar panels and their system to convert electricity. Unsurprisingly, after placing electric sockets and the entire electrical system, Leon had puked a coffee machine. Much to Reborn’s contentment. Tsuna had chuckled at that, earning a scowl from his tutor.

Anyway, they had finally a tv, for Kyouya’s need of documentaries, an equipped kitchen, Fon was delighted for the utensils and for the feeling of a true house and not a Neanderthal cavern, and a conditioner. Leon needed to rest, after all. That much was already a lot, more than Fon could have wanted.

While Reborn took care of the tutoring in the morning, Fon trained the children in the afternoon. Initially, Kyouya seemed startled by Tsuna’s lessons. He tried a lot of times to… _distract_ him from Reborn’s hellish tutoring… Truthfully, Fon thought that his friend was going really easy on the brunette, but he may have been wrong… No, not really.

Anyway, after pissing off the hitman because of his frequent attempts at destroying books, Fon saw Reborn _trying_ to be lenient. Well, to not explode. And then, Tsuna put a hand on Kyouya’s shoulder and looked at him with a smile.

“I’m sorry, Hibari-san, I need the lessons. Timo-jii said so.”

“Hn…”

“Well, because I need knowledge to protect everyone.”

“…”

“Don’t look at me like that, you want to avenge them, right? And protect Fon-san.”

Fon blinked.

“Hn.”

“I know you like to fight, but what if there are priorities and, let’s say, you need to interrogate them first?”

“Hn.”

“Yu can’t just ‘beat the info out of them’. What if you don’t know the language?”

“…”

“Exactly. Why don’t you join me, instead?”

Silence.

“Tsuna…”

“Reborn, this or the interruptions.” The child looked sharply at his tutor before smiling sweetly. “You did scare Fon-san to death, after all. And Hibari-san’s obviously smarter than me.”

Fon didn’t know what to say. On one side, his heart had just melted. On the other, he had just seen Reborn, of all people, being defeated. Again, thinking about it. And, on another one, Tsuna had just proven he could interpret Kyouya’s talking. No one apart himself and his parents had been able to. Not teachers nor classmates. In just a week, huh?

That afternoon, Fon successfully made his nephew train in the classic style. He mentally cheered, looking at both the children imitating each other and correcting their moves. Fon was sitting on the stone stairs after having shown them the kata.

“Do you know what them bonding means?”

Reborn sat near him, cup of black coffee in hand. His fedora was not on his head. He saw Leon slid near Tsuna and take place on the child’s head. Lichi, just returned from hunting, curiously approached the children.

“Yes.” He absentmindedly answered.

Lichi was doing the kata, too. Kyouya was frowning, not that it was easily recognized as an expression on his face, but why?

“Has he ever manifested flames?”

“Not that I know.”

Reborn paused. “Are you against his involvement?”

Fon’s eyelids dropped a bit. “I am. I cut my ties with the Triads, after all. At an expensive price, too.”

“Tsuna is no Mafia.” Reborn said, a bit severely.

“I noticed. His heart is too kind.” He smiled, looking at the brunette, Lichi was showing him the correct position. “I wasn’t done with my words, my friend.” Fon gazed at Reborn while Kyouya arched a brow at Tsuna. “I am against it, but the choice is Kyouya’s. If he wants to be with him, I have no rights to stop my nephew. I can only help him.”

The children were talking about something. “I think he’s being drawn like everyone else.”

“You included.” Fon chuckled.

Reborn snorted. “At least, it took him some months.”

The martial artist noticed Tsuna’s flames ablaze. “Oh, you’re admitting it, finally.”

“I didn’t.”

“Oh, please, you just did.”

He should stop teasing Reborn, but Leon was far at that moment and… The temptation was eating Fon alive. The hitman growled slowly, as to not draw the children’s attention.

A new sensation flooded the two men. They whipped their heads to the boys and they both gaped. Purple flames were dying on the dirt between the two children. Kyouya had his left palm facing the spot. Tsuna was happily clapping his hands, Sky flames on his forehead disappearing. At that, his nephew got a smug smirk and Fon dreaded the ways that… _quirk_ could have ended, very much like his brother’s. But, wasn’t this Tsuna’s fault, one way or another?

The brunette had finally managed to draw some kind of emotion out of Kyouya, after all. Not an easy feat. Not considering the crying session on the first day. Maybe, more than a fault, it was a merit… Tsuna or not, his nephew was his brother’s son. Yeah, that was it.

Anyway, the problem there… were the Cloud flames.

“Tsuna.” Reborn, the ever efficient one. “What… happened?”

The brunette turned to him with the sweet smile of doom. “Hibari-san ask–”

“Kyouya.”

Tsuna turned to the raven with confusion. “Kyouya…. -kun?”

“Kyouya.” Serious eyes and determined thin lips.

“Ok…” He turned to the men. “Kyouya asked me how I did the trick. I explained it to him and… He tried it out, I suppose.”

Reborn face-palmed softly. “Only you… The journey thing was the worst idea I’ve ever had.” He muttered through gritted teeth.

Fon covered his mouth with a sleeved hand, chuckling softly. “Kyouya, you just used Cloud flames.”

“Right, I’ve never seen them before.” Tsuna said with sparkling eyes. “Aren’t they beautiful, Kyouya? They seem so powerful.”

The smug smirk widened and Fon’s dread increased. Reborn sighed at the sight.

“Worst idea ever.”

 

If someone ever told Fon he could have seen his nephew, the aloof, unsympathetic, ever-scowling Kyouya, snuggling with another boy while sleeping… He would have sent that someone to a madhouse. Instead, there he was, hugging Tsuna softly and sleeping soundly. He could feel Reborn beside him seething.

Fon took his arm and lead his friend downstairs, leaving Leon and Lichi with the children. He let Reborn sit at the new wooden table and turned on the coffee machine. He was not good at it, but did his best. He had to try and see what Tsuna was able to do in the kitchen, given his ability with the coffee maker…

“Few months.”

If he didn’t know Reborn, Fon would have thought that was a whine. “Five months, to be exact. I’m surprised, too.”

“I seriously hope your nephew is not a stalker.”

Fon hummed. “I don’t think so… But, maybe, he’s possessive.” He made coffee. “You know, he always mutters about carnivores and herbivores while watching tv. That’s his way of… categorizing people. He called Tsuna ‘little animal’ this morning, during lessons.” The smell started to spread. “But, during their spar, he called him ‘carnivore’.”

“So, he respects Tsuna.”

Fon put the cup in front of his friend. “But he also wants to protect him. Like with the little bird he picked up some days ago.”

“A good way to leash a Cloud Guardian.”

Fon made himself oolong tea. “Have you informed Nono?”

Reborn shook his head. “I don’t want him to let the others know. Nono would be too happy to keep it hidden.”

The martial artist chuckled. “Wrapped around his pinkie.”

“Everyone… And his obliviousness is much appreciated.”

Fon sat and sipped his beverage. “How much time till you depart?”

“A month or so. Tsuna’s birthday is approaching and I’d rather not keep him far in that occasion. They would send the presents all over the world if only for a tiny bit of possibility for them to reach us.”

“Would they?”

Reborn brushed a hand on his eyes. “They already did. For Christmas. Nono is still upset we missed _his_ birthday… I'm not going to think about what they did all over the world just to find us.”

Fon chuckled. “Well, Tsuna has already mastered the basics and a little more. I made it so that he knows some tricks, too. Kyouya helped with battlefield experiences. I think I can teach him some advanced moves in this month.”

“He has taken a liking to your poisons.”

“I noticed, I’ll take care about that, too. Meanwhile, I suggest you tell Tsuna about your departure. He may be able to convince Kyouya to not be… Ah… Overprotective.”

Reborn groaned.

 

Tsuna smiled brightly. “We’ll see each other again, Kyouya, don’t worry.”

“Hn.”

“Oh, yes, sorry.”

“Little animal…”

“I know, I will.” Tsuna chuckled. “You just said you do not worry over anyone.”

Kyouya scowled, but his features were soft. “Hn.”

“Then, we’ll see each other again in some years.” The brunette smiled again. “Who knows who will be stronger…”

“Me, of course.”

Fon wanted to cry both of happiness, because his nephew had just said something that was not ‘hn’ or ‘herbivore’ or ‘carnivore’ or ‘little animal’, and of dread, because the smirk Kyouya was sporting was that of a blood lusting predator. Lichi, on his shoulder, gave a free applause.

Tsuna gave Kyouya a warm and tight hug, that the other reciprocated with less warmth. Reborn took the only suitcase, filled with herbs, a book for their use and Chinese attires. There were weapons, too, gathered from the corpses of the Triads’ waves, but Tsuna didn’t need to know that.

“Will you be my Cloud Guardian, then?” The brunette broke the hug. “The aloof, drifting Cloud that’s impossible to bind.”

From Fon’s point of view, Reborn wanted to correct that statement. However, both the men knew that, the way Tsuna changed it, the saying had pierced through Kyouya. The child was smirking as if he had just won a deathly match. And that was enough for Tsuna to understand the answer.

“Great, then, see you later.” He turned to Fon. “And good luck.”

The martial artist smiled softly. “Thank you. For everything.” He knelt and patted Tsuna’s head. “Good luck to you and take care.” He glanced at his friend. “Of Reborn, too.”

Tsuna chuckled. “I already do that. He used to skip meals and just drink coffee.”

Reborn grabbed the child’s hand and started descending the mountain. “See you.”

Fon’s chuckle resembled a laugh. He waved at the flailing child and Kyouya huffed.

“You finally found someone… interesting enough, huh?”

“Hn.” He nodded.

“To really be his Guardian, his Cloud, the strongest, you’ll have to train endlessly.” Fon turned to lock gazes with his nephew. “Are you ready?”

Kyouya arched a brow. “What are we waiting for?”

Fon smirked. “That determination of yours.”

“Tch. Like you are any different.”

Well… What could he say? He had been trapped by Tsuna, after all. He just could not evade it. That child had given them hope. Even if Kyouya ended up being in the Mafia, Fon couldn’t find it in himself to be angry or discouraged. His nephew was his brother’s son, one way or another, and the mother had had her bloodbaths. Kyouya was bound to be a ‘carnivore’, as the child liked to put it. So, better under a strong and pure Sky. Plus, there was still a chance Tsuna didn’t end up as a Mafioso. A tiny, microscopic chance…


	7. 07 – Ghosts

“Come on, a little bit!!”

“I said, NO.”

“Pleeeeaaaaseeeee???”

“No.”

“Meanie!”

“You can do better.”

“I don’t cuss.”

“I know.”

“…”

“Your pouts do not work on me. Try on the Rain.”

“He’s not here.”

“Oh, right, who else?”

“Everyone.”

“Minus me and you.”

“I still don’t understand what’s going on.”

“Me neither.”

“We should go investigate…”

“No.”

“But no one seems to be able to see us!”

“I don’t care.”

“We need to know what’s happening!”

“It’s dangerous.”

“We’re _ghosts_ , God… What could really happen?!”

“We’re at Vongola mansion, so, _everything_.”

“Come oooon.”

“Ugh. Fine. Go away and let me sleep!! If anything happens to you I’m gonna skin you alive!!”

“You can’t, I’m a ghost.”

“Hell yes I will!! And the damn Cloud will end the business!”

“Meanieeee!!”

But Giotto knew better than pulling too much G.’s feathers. He closed the door of his old room and sighed. He started strolling through the known corridors, whistling a random tune.

They _really_ didn’t know what was happening to them. He remembered quite well dying of old age in Japan, but his appearances were those of his teens’. G.’s, too. They had just woken up in their respective rooms. His Storm, being the mother-hen he was, had stormed to his own to check on him. They didn’t know how, why, nor when exactly in the supposed timeline they were.

Heading for the kitchens, where several servants were working in a frenzy, Giotto searched for a calendar. It was hanging near the door. Checking the month, he made brief calculus’ and found out they were about 700 years in the future. It was October.

The calendar was scribbled on with assorted colour of pens on a certain number, but Giotto ignored the fact and asked his mind why were the servants so fervent. Was the current day an important one? Was that the reason of their awakening? He knew they were wills, a print left in the Vongola Rings and that they were supposed to help Vongola go back to its rightful path of a vigilante group, needs ever arose. But.

If that really had been the case, then they would have spawned in their successors’ presence, during trials, not in their beds! So, what was going on? He had only answered the question about the time.

Giotto left the kitchens, once again sure that nobody was seeing him. He went to his old office. There were two men, quite old, guarding the door. He passed through it and found another old man with kind features and a young one with a chameleon on his lap, both wearing suits. There was a polished fedora on the desk between the two.

“I really couldn’t bring him back that time, Nono.”

Ah. Nono, the ninth, so… the hypothetical new generation was that of the tenth, Decimo.

“I know, my friend. But, next time…”

“Can’t promise.” The raven-haired looked around, somewhat wary. “I brought him back in time for his birthday, but I had to interrupt his training.”

Nono nodded. “I understand… Try, anyway.”

“Fine.” He turned to look again at the Boss. “I still can’t believe what they have done…” He brushed a hand on his eyes tiredly.

The Boss chuckled. “I must admit, trying to conquer North Korea because they would not let Varia search the whole country was… uhm… a bit risky… Everything went well, after _convincing_ the right people.”

“I don’t want to know what they would have done if we had not come back today.”

Another soft chuckle. “I honestly can’t fathom those scenarios… And, don’t forget, your own birthday was yesterday.”

“Tsuna already gave me a present, I don’t need more.”

“Oh, I’m curious now.”

The man with curly sideburns sighed. “He gave me that fedora.” He tilted his head to the object. “Apparently, my own was ‘old and worn’, his words.”

“Well, was he right?”

“Who knows.”

Nono chuckled. “Reborn, my friend, where is he now?”

“At Varia mansion.” The man huffed. “He didn’t go to CEDEF, but to Varia…”

“Him and Xanxus have quite the interesting relationship, after all.”

“I’ll go take him up in an hour or so. What worries me is…”

Giotto let the words fade as he left the room. He had new questions replacing the old ones. Who was this Tsuna? Who was exactly Reborn, that had felt his presence? The Vongola Sky ring was in its place, at Nono’s finger, and in its sealed form. Giotto had felt it a bit dim and found it strange.

He went to the garden. In a corridor, he found the portraits of the nine Boss, his own, too, but didn’t linger to observe what he was used to see in a mirror. The garden was well-kept, wide and beautiful. Brown and light green mixed in the autumnal breeze. He walked slowly, bathing in the warm sensation the sun gave him and sat on a stone bench. Strangely, the feverish atmosphere was there, too. Several maid and butlers were moving closed boxes inside the mansion. Even some guards were helping with those. And, stranger than anything else, they all seemed happy to _work_.

Giotto crossed his arms and legs, pouting. That hadn’t happened even for his birthday. What the hell was going on? Had it something to do with their summons?

He had every desire to see his Guardians again… Especially the Mist. Oh, the beating that was waiting him… The scoundrel. Idiot. Bast–

“Giotto.”

He turned his gaze to his left. And smiled warmly.

“Asari.” He stood, shaking hands with his friend.

The usually cheery eyes sharpened. “Why are we here?”

Giotto sighed. “I’m trying to understand. Apparently, 700 years have passed since our time.”

“We were supposed to help a new generation…”

“But we’re not with the supposed said generation. Decimo’s.”

“Tenth…”

Giotto nodded. “I still don’t know who is the heir. I’ve seen Nono in his office.”

“Uhm… Coming here, I’ve overheard an interesting conversation between a guard and a butler.” Asari said, brushing a hand on the hilt of his sword. “About a ‘young master’ and that today is his birthday. They were talking in quite fond words, I must add.”

“A young master…”

“Yes. He may be the one who has resonated with our wills.”

“I doubt that. Nono has the Sky Ring.”

Asari hummed. “I see. But… If it is him, then he might be quite powerful.”

Giotto nodded absentmindedly. “Have you seen the others?”

“Actually, yes.” They both started walking back inside the mansion. “G. is waiting in your room with a sleeping Lampo and an energized Knuckle. Alaude is patrolling the estate, Daemon…”

“His will is not here yet.”

“Can you feel it?”

“Faintly.”

“We should stay alert, then.”

“Yes. Whatever the cause of our awakening is, we’ll find out by this evening.”

 

Giotto couldn’t have predicted how much those words, supplied by his Intuition, would have been right on spot. They found out who was the one behind their summons. In a strange way.

They were still in Giotto’s room, patiently waiting for literally _anything_ to happen. Lampo was snoozing on his sofa. Knuckle was saying some prayers. Asari was playing the flute calmly. G. was looking through the window at the empty garden. Giotto was trying to piece together some of his thoughts. Even Alaude was with them, grumpily polishing his handcuffs. It was around nine in the evening.

Something happened.

Every one of them felt a tug, a pull, and then… _puff_.

They found themselves in a room, lit and decorated with festoons and candles. There were not many people, Giotto noted. Nono and… What was it… Reborn? Yeah. Then, a blonde, middle-aged man and a blue-haired woman in a corner, holding onto plates with a piece of cake. On the opposite side, a man… teens. One with raven hair and irate eyes, one with shoulder-long, white hair, one completely hidden by indigo cape and hood, another with strange hair and sideburns and blank face, a blonde one with a creepy grin and eyes covered by the fringe, and a pink-hired one with… sunglasses… was that even a male?

Strange people with strange styles, may Giotto have his own opinions… But he felt strong flames from each one.

Ah, there was a child, too. A child that… was looking right at him. He seemed…

“Giotto, I didn’t know you had a peanut-sized doppelganger.”

  1. was right…



The child freed his hand from Nono’s left and waved shyly at them. “Hi…”

Giotto shook his head and cleared his throat. “Hello.”

“Tsuna, who are you talking to?”

Ah, that was Reborn. They couldn’t see the ghosts, apparently, but he had certain a gleam in his eyes and a suspicious frown.

“Well… I don’t think you would believe me.” The man arched a brow, arms in pants’ pockets. “I’ll try to show you.” The child, Tsuna, turned towards Nono. “Can I have that ring for a moment?”

A flash of gold passed through his eyes. The old man noticed it and that was enough for him to oblige. He took off the pointed Sky Ring and offered it to the child. Tsuna took it and fingered the band for a moment. Then, Sky flames erupted from his hands and engulfed the ring.

The First generation felt a surge of power ignite their whole beings and, suddenly, they knew. They could be seen. Everyone around them had wide eyes and some had gaping mouths. The only one smirking was the raven teen. The blonde man had fainted. Nono was containing his stupor. Reborn was… face-palming in an exasperated way.

However, what gained the total attention of Giotto was the appearance of a certain Mist Guardian. Alaude promptly handcuffed him and Asari used his Rain flames to deter any use of Mist ones to escape.

Meanwhile, Tsuna gave back the ring to Nono and went to nurse the bulge on the fainted blonde’s head. Reborn was looking at him with a tired expression.

“How.”

Tsuna shrugged. “A feeling. They appeared when I accidentally touched the ring, so…”

“I see.”

“Shishishishi…”

“Little Sky…”

“Yes?” Tsuna assumed an innocent expression.

“So cuuuute!”

“Tsuna.” Reborn called. “You know who they are.” He pointed a finger at the ghosts.

The child nodded. “Giotto, Primo, Sky Guardian. G., right-hand-man, Storm Guardian. Asari, Rain Guardian. Knuckle, Sun Guardian. Alaude, Cloud Guardian. Lampo, Lightning Guardian. … And they all seem to have a grudge against Daemon, Mist Guardian. The First generation, right?”

“Marvellous, Tuna-fishieeeee…”

Wasn’t the blonde out of it?

**BANG**.

Definitely.

Giotto coughed a bit. “Good evening.” They all turned to him, that was feeling quite shy… “I’m sorry for the interruption. I see that… Tsuna? Yes, Tsuna has just summoned us. May I know who is this child?”

Seeing Nono still caught in his own stupor, Reborn took matters in his own hands. He stood, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Sawada Tsunayoshi is your distant relative, Primo. Your great-great-great-grandchild.”

Giotto recognized the surname as a Japanese one, along the way of saying the name after it. The resemblance was also obvious, so he couldn’t do more than nod. Tsuna looked at Reborn, that turned to him as if called. He pointed at Giotto.

“My grandfather?”

“Yes. Your great-great-great-grandfather.”

For some reason, the boy brightened and waved a hand happily at Giotto with a blinding smile. G. interrupted his Boss’ moment of epiphany. And of unconscious falling.

“So, the child’s Sky flames summoned us… mistakenly?”

Nono smiled, finally regaining some presence of mind. “Apparently.” He supplied. “Tsunayoshi has always been a gifted child. His flames resonated with the Ring, I suppose.”

A brawl had meanwhile broken out between the teens. Only the strange one with a blank expression and the enraged one were still interested in the ghosts. Asari, though glaring at Daemon, whose mouth had been gagged, seemed entertained by their bantering. Something about a little animal being one’s or the other’s… Possessive teens.

“That’s some ultimate will! May God give them strength to have what they want.”

“Knuckle, I think it’s better for their subject of love that it doesn’t happen.” Lampo huffed.

“Reborn?” The fedora-wearing man tilted his head to Tsuna. “Isn’t Alaude really similar to… You know who I mean…”

The man looked at the blonde ghost and arched a brow. “I see the resemblance… Then, he’s his ancestor, or something like that.”

Alaude crossed his arms but seemed interested. Beyond the blank face, anyway.

Tsuna shrugged, letting the fainted one be and approaching Giotto. “How should I call you?”

Primo blinked. “I think… Whatever you want…”

“Then… Grampa?”

Lampo tried to hide a snicker but failed, ending up with a coughing fit. Knuckle not so gently helped him. Giotto blinked but, instead of finding it degrading or unfitting, he was filled by rightness, by longing. He couldn’t understand why the man named Reborn was huffing while wanting to bang his head on the nearest wall, but he decided to ignore him.

“Yes, that’s fine.”

Tsuna smiled brightly like before and Giotto melted. Was this boy really his grandchild? He resembled himself a lot, but he was also different. Cuter and… stronger, he thought. Just the fact he’d been able to summon them with only a slight brush against the Ring, and then he’d manifested them before the others… Mesmerizing.

“Tuna-fishiiieeee…”

“Stop whining, id–… Iemitsu.” Reborn said, irked.

“Little Sky.” The raven-haired wrath looked at Giotto while talking at Tsuna. “Trashes are a hindrance?”

“Oh no, Xanxus-nii, distant relatives.” Tsuna smiled sweetly. “They’re guests, right, Timo-jii?”

“But of course, Tsunayoshi.” Nono smiled. “Truth to be told, _we_ are the guests.”

“Tsuna-chaaaan…” The pink-haired one flailed his arms at Tsuna, hugging him from behind. “Cutiiiee!”

“Ahah, Luss-nee.” Tsuna chuckled, turning in the hug and reciprocating it. “Thanks for the present. I don’t know when I’ll be able to use them.”

“Oooohn, whenever you want!”

The pink man… woman… man… whatever, Luss, let the child go with a peck on his cheek. He waved and left the room, soon followed by the blank-faced one. The white-haired teen patted Tsuna on the head first, then left. The blonde one knelt at the child’s level, grin not fading but… softening.

“Make good use of those knives, they’re marvellously deadly. Shisihshishishi..”

“Thanks, Bel-nii. Reborn will teach me if you can’t.” Giotto shivered at the sharp gleam in the boy’s eyes.

“Good boy, shishishishi…”

And the creepy one gone, too. The only one left was the wrath. That was currently ruffling the messy mane of the child.

“Take care, little Sky. We’ll stop chasing you, as promised. Make the hitman keep his own.”

“Okay, Xanxus-nii…”

Tsuna tiptoed to give the teen a tight hug. In that moment, the blonde fainted man regained consciousness and looked around. The wrath noticed and quickly left with a curt wave.

“Tuna-fishie…?”

Giotto frowned. What kind… of nickname… It was kinda cute, but…

“He’s Tsuna’s father.” Reborn said, probably having noticed the frown. “He’s the only blood-related family he has left, so we… hold back any retort we may have.”

“The only?”

Reborn nodded. “His mother was killed by Mafiosi.” He muttered. “He was abducted and… abused.” The last word was almost unintelligible because of the gritted teeth.

Giotto crossed his arms, controlling his reaction and checking for his Guardians. Knuckle and Lampo were talking to Tsuna, that was happily chatting with them. Alaude was observing the boy with unusual interest. G. was glaring at the defying Daemon.

“And why are you telling me this?”

Reborn smirked, releasing his tension. “Because you clearly care, _Grampa_.” He said, smugly. “And because I think you all will stay for some time.” He gazed over the Guardians.

Giotto checked again. Knuckle was showing Tsuna a rosary. Lampo was sitting on the floor, captured by the explanation, too. Alaude had shortened the distance between himself and the boy. G. was still glaring at the defying Daemon, but both kept stealing glances at the boy.

“A pure, powerful, all-encompassing Sky.” Nono supplied with his kind smile. “I guess presentations are in order.” He offered a hand to shake. “My name is Timoteo Vongola, current Nono Boss of your Famiglia.”

Primo shook it softly. “Giotto Vongola, pleasure to meet you.”

“Reborn, but I have a feeling you knew.” The man narrowed his eyes.

He smiled in apology. “I’m sorry, I may have overheard a conversation between you two this morning.” He looked at the boy, interest impossible to hide. “So, Tsuna is the future Decimo?”

Nono blinked, taken aback. “No, he isn’t… Why would you ask that?”

Giotto paused. “First of all, he summoned us, voluntarily or not.” He crossed his arms on his chest loosely. “He has Sky flames. I’ve seen only a bit but they seemed pure and strong and they gave us enough energy to materialize.” He glanced at Daemon, that was clearly taken by the child. “Not counting he forced one of us to come here, by doing that.” Then moved his gaze on Reborn. “He is from my lineage and resembles me quite a lot. Honestly… I fail to see the reasons why he is _not_ the future heir.”

Giotto looked on as Reborn didn’t answer, as if knowing all of that, and Nono saddened.

“I just told you, he was abused by Mafiosi.” The man in black suddenly said, emanating a dark aura. “He is a child and he is precious to many people. Nono does have a son, though missing, and an adopted one. Tsuna wasn’t even supposed to be with us.”

There was something like regret in his tone. “Then you shouldn’t have made his flames awaken.”

Nono cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Primo… We didn’t. Tsuna awoke his flames on his own. I fear… seeing his mother killed has left a nasty scar in his heart. So painful that now he wants to protect everyone dear with everything he’s got.” He looked at the boy, that was playing with Lampo while Knuckle observed them and Asari joined the game. “You are right and, as I said, his flames are powerful. Too much, truthfully speaking. Either we trained him or… I would have sealed them.”

“They were too dangerous to be left untamed.” Reborn added. “Tsuna was already vulnerable. Training and learning gave him something to do and a mean to heal his wounds.”

“He is rather happy with his new life.” Nono smiled when the blonde always-fainting man approached. “He is Iemitsu, his father.”

The man bowed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Primo.”

Giotto nodded, thinking about what they had said. “And no one thought he could inherit the title?”

Reborn scoffed. “Everyone is thinking that. Even the adopted son would be eager to see it happen.”

“Are you positive?” Nono asked while Iemitsu gaped.

The other simply nodded and left, approaching Tsuna. The boy looked at him and offered the man to play the card game with them. Reborn shook his head but took a chair and sat near him, arms and legs crossed. The green chameleon slid to Tsuna’s shoulder and curled to sleep.

“What do you think about your son becoming Decimo?” Giotto suddenly asked, looking at the father.

Iemitsu flinched before narrowing his eyes a fraction. “I frankly don’t like the idea.” He answered. “Tsuna has already gone through a lot and… I’d prefer for him not to be too involved.”

“He is already involved, being your son.” He shot. “Anyway, Nono is still able to be a Boss. A conversation like this can be postponed… You all should think about it.” He turned to G.. “I need to think about one of my Guardians first and… I’d like to know how are the ties between Vongola and Simon.”

Nono blinked. “… Simon?”

 

“Lampo, here you are…”

The green-haired teen glanced lazily at the swordsman. “Yeah, I was bored.”

Asari smiled. “Thought you’d be sleeping in your room.” He sat at the table of the training room and poured himself some tea. “What’s the commotion?”

“Just the brat training… Well, trying to train.”

The scene was quite endearing. Asari knew this was a training room, so he honestly couldn’t understand why there was a spectators’ area. Several round tables with three chairs each and trays of warm beverages were deployed on a side of the room. It was wide with a high ceiling, which was made of grey reinforced concrete, he’d learned, like the walls and the floor. There were more than one fight happening on the other side.

A week had passed since being summoned, so the ghosts had adjusted with the environment, learning all the names they would need and how to become invisible in front of guards, butlers and maids.

Reborn, the hitman with the formal attire, was leaning on the opposite wall, sighing from time to time, with crossed arms and a bended leg, one foot on the concrete. The nearest battle was between the adopted son, rage was flaring everywhere, and two of his Guardians, the Storm and the Sun.

“I want to cuddle Tsu-chan!!”

“It’s my turn to teach him the knives’ use!”

“He needs to train, trashes!! Do you want him to leave again?!?”

“My, my… I can’t quite follow that quarrel…” Asari commented.

Lampo huffed, propping his head on the right palm, elbow on the table. “Apparently, and from what I’ve heard from their numerous fights, the brat’s tutor escaped with him for almost a year because no one allowed peaceful training and lessons. They don’t want it to happen again, though the tutor seems at his wits’ end.”

Asari chuckled as Reborn shook his head in exasperation. Xanxus had just made sure a knife didn’t reach the other battle. That interested him more.

Alaude was fighting with the Asian child.

Surprising, indeed.

He could see why Lampo was there and not lying on a sofa, somewhere else.

And the boy, Tsuna, was quite good at parring and trying to land a hit. Obviously, it took a lot more than that to defeat the blonde, he knew. The child called forth his flames and his gloves lit, propelling him up to evade a dangerous kick. Panting, Tsuna stayed in air, narrowed and calculating eyes looking at Alaude. He didn’t wait long before launching at the man with a new determination.

“Fascinating…”

“You think?” Lampo scratched lazily his always closed eye. “Personally, I find everything a bit too much.”

Asari arched a brow. “What do you mean?”

“The brat’s a child, isn’t his strength unneeded?”

The swordsman hummed, recalling what Giotto had told him about the boy. “You should know how much one’s will can change perspectives and desires. Tsuna has experienced loss and felt useless about it. He doesn’t want it to happen again and that’s why his flames awakened.” He chuckled a bit. “Seems like a true Vongola to me.”

Someone behind them scoffed loudly. Asari unsheathed his sword and pointed it right at his neck without turning. A drip of blood would have slid down his throat if he had not been a ghost. Lampo sighed, eyeing him warily. The meeting between Primo and him had not gone exactly well, considering they’d ended up throwing insults at each other instead of just the explanation and the beating.

“Reason why Giotto let you go.” Asari demanded.

Daemon sat in the free chair. “I apparently can’t defy the boy’s summon.”

“Reason why you’re here.” He withdrew the sword.

The Mist scoffed. “Checking on my enemies.”

A debris flew right at his face. It didn’t pass through. It hit the ghost, that fell backwards with the chair.

After a dense moment of silence, Lambo burst into a loud laugh while Asari chuckled. Tsuna rushed to them, flame on his forehead slowly dying.

“I’m sorry!”

“Oh, don’t worry, he deserved it.” The swordsman said.

Tsuna frowned. “I know, but I didn’t think it’d hit.” He bit his lower lip. “I would have chosen a smaller rock.”

Alaude, that was walking to them, smirked. Reborn, at his side, sighed.

“You ghosts can decide to be visible or touchable. Seems those rules don’t apply to Tsuna.”

Daemon rose from the floor, nose bleeding. “And why on Earth did I deserve it?!”

Tsuna’s frown hardened, almost becoming a scowl. “Because you addressed us as enemies!! We’re not enemies!” A flash of gold passed through his eyes. “We’re friends, a family! Why did you bring discord among the ones you swore to protect and fight alongside with?!” The flame burned again, strong and demanding. “I don’t know exactly what made you change your perspective, but change it again!! Do you really think that enemies would have bothered with capturing you and trying to make you understand what you did wrong?!”

Reborn blinked, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Tsuna, calm down.”

The boy took a deep breath with closed eyes. “You fear what they want to do with you?” Daemon _flinched_. “Then make amends.” He turned and went to the door. “And stop following me everywhere, you resemble a stalker. If you want to talk with me so badly, man up.”

The hitman soon followed the boy with a smirk creeping on his lips. Asari warily looked at the standing Mist while Lampo whistled. Alaude left, too. The other fight kept going, unaware that the boy was gone.

“Enemies, huh…” The green-haired glanced at Daemon, that was expressionless. “I personally don’t consider you one, if it still matters to you. Ah, but you’re as creepy as always…” He stood, too, and left.

Asari thought carefully about what to say. “I agree with Lampo, but our trust won’t be conquered again so easily. If you really want it, show us how much it matters to you. Hard to accept as it is, you betrayed us. You betrayed Giotto.” He could see how his words pierced through the hard armour like arrows. “Tsuna is right. We still care about you. Tell me, Daemon… Would Elena really appreciate what you did for the Famiglia she wanted you to be a part of?”

The other didn’t answer, simply sitting again and looking at the fight. Asari huffed and stood, leaving the room, too.

Daemon gritted his teeth, feeling irate at being discovered and scolded by a no more than a child. And then they go and say whatever they feel like to say. He knew exactly what a strong Famiglia like Vongola needed, and that was no weaknesses. Simon’s were a weakness. Enemies were a weakness. Giotto himself had become a weakness, a Boss that wouldn’t let the Famiglia rise to new heights and become powerful.

Sawada Tsunayoshi was a weakness. That was why he had started to infiltrate into the Simon’s to put them against the brat. It only needed a push, some lies about him being the heir and the game was set. But, no, the nuisance had to be powerful and summon his ghostly spirit, leaving the one he’d been possessing to faint and regain presence of mind.

That was literally blowing his mind.

The child was a weakness. To Vongola, to the Boss, to Varia, to CEDEF, even to the Arcobaleno! Why the hell was he so powerful, then? Why did he remind Daemon of Giotto? Why did he make the Mist fearful of those golden eyes and that pure flame? Why did he want to…

“So, my nephew scolded you, too.”

Daemon glanced at Primo, that was right then sitting at his left. He didn’t answer.

“Yesterday, he scolded me for being too mean to you.” Giotto poured himself some tea, that was cold by then. “The day before, he scolded G. for being too hard on everyone. Then he scolded Lampo for being too uncaring.” He sipped some. “Honestly, it seems we’ve been summoned to be scolded, not to help.”

“I don’t care.”

“Don’t lie, idiot.”

“I do not lie.”

“You lie on a daily basis. Thanks to my Intuition, I found out about your plans. Even those previous to the Simon’s.” Giotto shot him a meaningful glance. “Why do you think I kept quiet about it?”

“Because you didn’t trust me.”

“Wrong.” He sighed. “Because I trust you will understand, in the end, that our objective is to protect, not to be powerful.”

“You’re speaking in the present tense.”

“On purpose.” He didn’t smile as Daemon expected. “Despite everything, I still believe in you. In what Elena saw in you. And in what you saw in us all, back then.” He sighed. “I’m giving you a chance here, don’t let it go to waste.”

 

“… Tell me again… Why are we here?”

The brat hummed. “Hyper Intuition.”

Daemon, invisible as he wanted to be thanks to his flames, floated above them. The hitman would sometimes look around where he was in suspicion, but the brat… He looked directly at _him_ as if he could see his body. Bullshit.

The pair was currently walking through the back garden of the Vongola mansion. Where to, he didn’t know, thus why he was _following_ them. No, he didn’t do stalking. No matter what the others perceived it to be. It was _not_ stalking. It was, as previously that day pointed out, ‘checking his enemies’. And the brat had already gained a third place in the list of the most dangerous, after Giotto and the other Guardians. Not because of ominous aura or scaring features. But because of what he could materially do.

Daemon was not stupid. Stubborn, maybe, and uncontrollably proud, but not stupid. This child was able to not only use Sky flames, purer even than Giotto’s, but also to _force_ their _spirits_ into submission. He had summoned him during his mission among the Simons, after all. He would not admit it, _never_ ¸ but he was actually… wary of him. A lot.

So, there he was, checking if the brat had any strange plotting going on. He surely had one, after all. Given how much power he held. Daemon would, in his shoes.

What kind of plan would the brat make in the cemetery, by the way… Maybe he had a secret hideout in the form of his mother’s grave? But he was fairly sure she was resting in her homeland, Japan. So… Whose grave? Or graves?

“You haven’t even recognized the route, right?”

The brat had just stopped in front of a magnificent tombstone. It was pristine white, maybe it had recently been freed from vines and overgrown weed, with floral engraves on its frame and a clean name written in italics over two dates. Daemon blinked, finding his eyes teary, despite him not allowing them, and looked at the one who’d talked.

The child was looking straight at him with eyes flashing orange and without an inch of hate or despise.

“Can you guess who cleaned the tombstone and the path here?”

The ghost glanced around and found that, indeed, the other routes were impossible to take.

“You’re the only one to think of yourself as an enemy and not a member of the family.”

Tsunayoshi smiled then and took Reborn’s hand before walking away. The hitman had this scowl on his face that was more on the tired side than on the annoyed one. Peculiar.

Daemon let them leave and fixed his sight on the only thing he had of his late wife aside the pocket watch. A tombstone. The token on which he’s promised to make his Famiglia the strongest. He glanced once at the leaving boy and frowned under the leaking tears.

There was no weakness on those shoulders. He knew how to recognize it, he’d seen a lot on Giotto’s back when he’d first searched for them. Guilt, worry, hurt, responsibilities… Weaknesses, all of them. He even knew why each of them was still there, too well. But he’d seen none on the child. Not the first time they’d met, not right then. None.

There was happiness, a soft humming warmth like the one that the Sun shadowed the world with, a jovial welcoming whisper of nothings, a promise of free protection and acceptance, an enveloping and invisible blanket of Sky flames delicately wrapping around anything and everything he deemed worth it.

It was around himself, too. Like Giotto’s unsure one still was.

And wasn’t that foolishly idiotic? Why was it warming his aching heart then?

Utterly unacceptable…

His tears stopped only with the sunset.

 

“We’re going back to Mount Lu. Period.”

“Uhm… Ok… But…”

“No buts. You can’t train anymore and even lessons are interrupted by ghosts passing by to chat. Not considering that Mist one always trying to irk me and snatch you away to teach you how to plot and trick people. Xanxus is losing his leash on the Varia’s already and Ie–… Your father keeps on interrupting when none of the others are.”

A little hand rested on his arm and Reborn took a deep breath. “I’m sorry you’re so stressed, I agree and I was not going to tell you no.”

The hitman lifted his head and arched a brow, looking at the child that was standing in front of him. “What then?”

Tsuna glanced up at the door of their study room and pointed a finger. “Daemon now knows where we’re going…”

Reborn gritted his teeth and Leon jumped from the child’s head right into his hand in gun-form. He infused the bullets with Sun flames and _willed_ them to pierce through the ghost. Daemon had, fortunately for his _skin_ , ducked in time, though a warm and silky blanket of Sky flames was covering him without the man knowing. He was too busy going to inform everyone of what he’d just discovered.

… Well, _almost_ everyone.


	8. 08 – Verde

In Scotland, the word to indicate a large, deep, freshwater lake was Loch. It had been created with the Manx lough, Cornish logh and the Welsh word for lake, llyn. Some lochs could also be called firths, fjords, estuaries, straits or bays. Sea-inlet lochs were often called sea lochs or sea loughs. Many loughs were connected to stories of lake-bursts, signifying their mythical origin and mysterious stories. Discovering the word was even Indo-European in origin had been eye-opening, a mixture of Manx and Celtic.

In the Scottish Highlands, a loch world-wide known for its legends was Loch Ness. It was connected to Loch Oich by the Caledonian Canal and to Loch Dochfour by the Bona Narrows. It was the second largest in Scotland, after Loch Lomond, but the largest in volume due to its depths. Though it was more known for alleged sightings of the cryptozoological Loch Ness Monster, also affectionately named ‘Nessie’.

Now… What better thing for a mad scientist to use, as a place to experiment in peace, than to build a Nessie and an underwater laboratory in the deepest point of the Loch?

Easier said than done, but he’d made it in the end. The courier problem really did make him understand the use of the word Mainland by the inhabitants. Seriously, so much for deliveries… Only because the Highlands made it harder to make them… With all the technologies in the world, they still couldn’t hand deliveries to drones? So, he’d just bought a company and made it all the simpler for his ongoing-building and future experiments… If people were happy for the change, it was not his problem.

The laboratory was spread through two floors, the upper of which was completely glassed to allow sight of the Loch. The glasses were especially treated as to be completely invisible from the outside, while several rocks and crevices subtly hid the strange, cubical structure. The second floor was completely below the bed of the lake, giving him a sometime needed complete obscurity. It was where his bedroom and kitchen were, along with a rather big bathroom. And a training room. One couldn’t know if he may have needed it in the future…

The laboratory entrance and venting system led to the mountains on the North-western shore, in a cave nicely hidden by vegetation and protected by a pack of wolves. When he needed deliveries, he would simply go to Lochend and wait for it at his illegally bought house. It was little and cosy.

Building Nessie had required even more time than the laboratory, maybe a month more, because several things were to be taken into consideration. Height, size, water-proofed mechanicals, a simple – for him – AI, researches for a believable aspect, glassed eyes, fins, an underwater cave to hide it for long periods of time, screeching sounds and growls, knowledge of the nautical traffic at all times and… moon-glittering, laboratory-made scales. He didn’t do half-assed things, after all.

Keiman had loved it. Nessie and the new home. Verde had built a waterproof room for him to easily go swimming whenever he wanted to. With the monster, at times. It was funny to observe them from his comfy chair in front of his computers, as a mean to not overwork himself. Not too much, anyway…

He was currently working on a big project. It was going to take him years to complete his researches, not considering collecting the necessary samples and finding the _volunteering_ guinea pigs. The weapons he was developing were highly dangerous and were going to be a huge jump for Mafia’s fights. If he was successful. Which he always was.

Verde double-checked the program that was supposed to get parameters of flames inserted in the newly-built flame-detector of his invention and nodded to himself. He launched it, that flawlessly started and asked to inject the first sample. The scientist went to the device and charged his own Lightning flames in the syringe-like tube. The computer on his left running the program started detecting the parameters he’d programmed to be read, and Verde smirked.

One device, done. One flame, categorized. He missed five plus the Sky, that he had not much hope on getting. Sky’s were rare and mostly Bosses, so he couldn’t just up and go kidnap one. It required _politics_ , and he so much hated those… He also didn’t want to tell anyone about his project, Cthulhu forbid it fell in the wrong hands or, worse, someone pushed him into completing it.

He _had_ craved peace for its sake, after all. In the pit of a Loch, lost in Scotland. He was not going to let anyone take that calmness away from him.

… Reborn and a child not included, apparently.

 

It happened when he’d gone at his house to wait for a delivery. Net-shopping was a blessed invention. Pity it was not his company’s delivery drone that time... But the most irritating person he knew was roaming the Earth. Why hadn’t he gone to Mars seeking peace, instead of some lake _he_ could have reached…

Verde scowled for good measure, eyeing and snatching away the package meant to be for him. Reborn just smirked in that smug way of his without saying anything. The scientist would have smacked the door in his face if it wasn’t for the fact that, if Reborn was there, he wanted something. If he wanted something, he was going to become a stalker. If he became a stalker, the peace he had earned would have been completely lost. And he wasn’t going to let it happen so easily after so much work.

The suitcases behind him were not boding well for the scientist’s sanity.

“What are you doing here.” His tone was resigned, and he pitied himself.

Reborn just moved a little to his left. Verde looked onwards and saw a mop of gravity-defying hair meeting his sight. How was it even possible for hair to be stuck up like that without use of gel? There was none, the strands were clean and soft-looking. Under the mane, a child was smiling at him with a waving hand.

“He doesn’t seem your son.”

The hitman rolled his eyes. “He isn’t.”

“Hi, I’m Tsuna. Nice to meet you.” The smile became blinding and Verde blinked.

“Verde. … I’d say likewise, but I’m not a nanny.”

The other man _chuckled_. “That would be a disaster.” He looked down at… Tsuna, then back at him. “You still have the habit of absentmindedly pick up calls from that phone and blurt about whatever you’re doing.”

Oh. God. … He’d screwed up.

Verde face-palmed softly, minding his glasses, with a groan. “… Why are you here?”

“Me and Tsuna are escaping an over-protecting and too-clingy Famiglia. We need peace to train and study, your new laboratory sounded good enough to me.”

Train and study… “You’ve become a tutor?”

Reborn shrugged. “It was a request.”

“From someone powerful, I presume.”

The hitman levelled him with narrowed eyes before confirming his suspicions. “Vongola Nono.”

The question then was… “Who is he, exactly?”

“CEDEF’s Boss’ only son.”

“… Do I have a choice?” He asked more to himself than whoever.

“You could use the chance.”

Verde looked up at Reborn, puzzled. “Chance?”

“Didn’t you need Sky flames’ samples?” The hitman nodded at the child with the usual smirk.

Tsuna wore the hood and closed his eyes. A warm flame burst to life on his forehead. Pure. Sky. Perfect.

…

“Fine.”

 

Verde was… perplexed.

He didn’t know what he had expected, but surely not… what he was experiencing.

The afternoon of the surprise attack, they had waited until after sunset to venture in the wild. Verde had prepared the usual narcotic, but he’d had only one gas-mask. While he’d wanted to ask Reborn to let Leon make two, he’d been stopped by a sudden chuckle. A child’s chuckle. Come to think of it, what was he… Seven, six?

Tsuna had been playing with the wolves.

Reborn, face-palming.

The wolves… _wagging their **tails**_.

Verde had gaped, completely unable to gain his research materials out of the sight.

“Tsuna, you can’t adopt them.”

“Oh… Well… I’m sorry guys, I’ll see you again, okay?”

The wolves had _cried_. And had granted them the passage. Utterly unbelievable.

“They’ll let you pass, from now on… Please, don’t use sleeping gas on them, they’re worried for the cubs.”

Apparently, the boy could even understand them. He was _not_ going to start wondering about the possibility of it being true.

If Verde had been dubious about the hitman’s attachment to the boy, the fog had cleared when Reborn had stated that the bed was Tsuna’s. It didn’t matter the bed was his to begin with. Useless information. So… Arcobaleno stuck with sleeping on the sofas. Laughable. It hadn’t even crossed his mind, back then, that he’d not said anything against it.

Anyway… Reborn… Attached.

The two words did not really cooperate.

He’d settled on observing the two.

In the span of a week, Verde had gathered a lot.

First of all, Reborn was indeed _attached_. He’d even use the word ‘bonded’, though they were still not really at that stage. He had to mentally thank his new glasses that allowed him to see. Their flames were trusting each other, but not mixing, neither trying to truly take the step forward. It was as if the child and the man had a mutual, silent understanding of what was going to happen, but kept the step at bay. He didn’t know why, he couldn’t understand why. From Reborn’s point of view, maybe, he could relate. World’s strongest and all, one in his position, as Verde himself, should not allow to be bonded. Not to a child-sized Sky, anyway. Too risky. Attachment could be dealt with, by protectiveness and worry, but a bond… It was much more complicated.

A bond between Sky and Guardians involved their souls, their life essence, their future and choices. Be it because of friendship, kinship, love interest… A flames’ bond, once done, was forever and couldn’t be broken. It entailed that Guardian and Sky were one and inseparable. Death was the only thing powerful enough to break it. And, in the Mafia, it was an even too real possibility… Kind of ironic. When bonded Guardians died at an early age, the Sky was left scarred. When the opposite happened, the Guardians were left disorganized, headless, sorrowful and, in the minority of cases, even suicidal.

He knew. Reborn knew. All the Arcobaleno knew that, too well. Luce had left them in a mess. They were not the strongest in only words, anyway, and had risen from the ashes, although missing pieces. The hitman had busied himself with missions. The scientist had started researching flames as if it was a matter of life and death… From a certain point of view, it was… He had heard Colonello was somewhere in Australia, training like crazy. Skull was lost in Russia. Lal had devoted herself to CEDEF, though she’d been partially spared because of the still-incomplete bond. Viper had immediately recoiled into her business state, hiding the pain behind piles and piles of paperwork. Fon had ran off to busy himself with the worst possible organization he could have chosen. Words had reached him that the Chinese man had cut ties with the Triads quite recently and hidden somewhere.

But he was going off-topic.

So, he knew Reborn’s possible motives, but he couldn’t understand why the child was holding his instincts back. It was obvious that he wanted the bond to be, but the effortless holding back at it was mind-blowing. In a child, anyway.

On the second day of the unhappy – for him – cohabitation, Leon had puked two beds and Verde had reacquired his own. Thankfully. The thing that changed after that was Keiman’s sleeping place. The alligator was not one to share his thoughts or to be easily read, so it’d come as a half-surprise when he had brought his large, blue pillow near Tsuna’s bed to plop down on it and begin snoring comfortably. Verde couldn’t be entirely sure, but he’d seen Reborn sigh while shaking his head at the display. Leon had already been curled on the child’s pillow, while the brunette was chuckling and going to sleep. In his living room, of course.

The third had been a true shock. It had happened in the training room. Child-sized, but not weak. He had never thought of him as weak, he noticed. Little, but not powerless. Maybe it was a matter of instinct, but the shock had leaked from his agape mouth and wide eyes when Tsuna had used his flames, his fighting abilities and barely stood his ground with _Reborn_. Verde knew enough to recognize when the hitman was holding back, and he had seen how, at the latest blows, he’d put in his all to completely defeat the other. As previously stated, a shock.

The tutoring had only added to his discomfort in having unwanted guests. Tsuna was a sponge, literally, though a bit dumb. More times than once, Verde had seen Reborn struggle to make him understand the hard subjects. And he wasn’t talking about elementary-school levels, nor middle-school… The theory they were disclosing was on things a child should have not even seen yet. So, the shock was, yes, because of the little dumbness, but also because said dumbness should have been a lot bigger.

A week had passed before Verde was left alone with the child. Reborn had some urgent business to see to. It was not uncomfortable per se, on the contrary… Tsuna was humming some random, but not annoying, tune, while doing homework left by the tutor. He was sitting at the table near his desk, where the scientist was upgrading the program to analyse the flames. Keiman was curled around the brunette’s feet, keeping them warm, while Leon was in his scarf form, wrapped around his throat.

It wasn’t that cold in there… right?

“No, they’re just being affectionate.”

Verde observed the small smile play on the other’s lips and slightly frowned. Had he spoken his mind without noticing? He was rather sure not…

“In fact… But you’ve been staring at them.” Tsuna petted Leon and Keiman. “It was easy to understand what you were thinking about.”

Ah… What was it called… “Vongola Intuition.”

Tsuna arched a brow. “Well, Reborn calls it Hyper Intuition… Vongola is the name of Timo-jii’s Famiglia...”

So, he wasn’t officially part of it. “That Intuition is a trademark of Vongola’s Bosses. You’re the CEDEF’s Boss’ son, right?”

He nodded. “Yes… Reborn said once… that me and dad are related to grandpa Giotto.”

“You may not be officially part of the family, but your blood and abilities don’t lie.”

Tsuna seemed thoughtful for a moment, so Verde focused on his screen once more and gave the finishing touch. He ran the program, that worked perfectly, and stood, checking the device was turned on and functioning.

“Ok, can you lend me some of your flames?”

Tsuna blinked confusedly, but stood to go at his side. “Uhm… How do I…?”

Verde channelled a minuscule portion of his flames on his fingertip. The glasses enhanced the vision of the sparkling entity. Tsuna silently called forth the flame on his forehead, that the hitman had curtly explained as a fighting mode.

“Focus. Try to picture your flames as a moving mass inside your body. Will it into your hand and let out a little bit of it on the tip of your finger. Slowly.”

The scientist silently waited. Tsuna closed his eyes. The flame on his forehead dulled, then burst livelier than before. His glasses allowed him to see the warm, fuzzy ball that was moving from the chest up to the right shoulder, down on the arm and forward in the lifted hand. The little burning flame that erupted from the index was calm and collected, flipping around the skin like an attached tendril.

“Good, now put the finger near the tube and channel the flame into it.”

Verde waved off his own flame as the child did as told. The orange glow detached from the nail and fell down. The tube cracked. The man blinked. It didn’t shatter. But the program shut down with a buzz.

He quickly checked the database of analysis and found that none had been lost. Even Tsuna’s readings were categorized. He had to brush a hand on his eyes, willing his mind to check he wasn’t dreaming, when he read those.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t want to break it…”

Verde looked at him after finding out the program had only shut down because of an override. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I suppose I have to substitute it with a bullet-proof one.”

Though, what flames… To be able to crack the glass, and those parameters… He had a feeling he shouldn’t use them. Well, if he really used those standards, then… Would there be anyone in the world capable to use the weapons? To match the parameters? Highly improbable.

“How did you awake your flames?” He curiously asked, eyeing the child.

Tsuna scratched his cheek, smiling softly. “Reborn said that it was a… defensive… mechanism… I think. I wasn’t able to protect my mom, so now…” He trailed off, shrugging.

Verde held back a sigh. Trauma. That explained a lot.

“Can you protect your precious people, now?”

The child’s smile brightened a bit. “Not completely, but I’m here to train after all… To become stronger.”

Admirable willpower. “Then keep on protecting.” He diverged his gaze, slightly conscious of how much he was talking. “Don’t ever change that.”

Verde ignored the sudden feeling of protection passing through his chest and pinched the bridge of his nose in forced annoyance. This was _not_ happening…

 

“… everything is correct, Tsuna. That’s it for today.”

The child huffed, contented, and stood. He fidgeted some moments, near the table, before approaching Verde, that had been subtly observing them.

“Uhm…” The scientist turned his gaze on him. “Can I use the kitchen? You seem busy today, so… I know how to cook!”

The green-haired man arched a brow at the higher voice but nodded. Reborn smirked from his seat and Tsuna happily skipped to the lower floor.

“I bet you’ll be less willing to let us go, after the meal.”

“… You’re leaving?”

“In a month or so.” Reborn massaged his forehead. “Last year, we missed Nono’s birthday and he’ll never forgive me if we miss this year’s one, too.”

“Isn’t it a hasty move?”

The hitman gave him an inquisitive gaze. “Hasty?”

“He’s too young to be presented as an heir, no one will take him seriously.”

Reborn blinked, then chuckled. “That’s not it.” He laughed. “You’re the second one that points that out like it’s obvious.”

“It’s not?”

The hitman shook his head. “He’s not the heir, even if many already think of him as such. Nono just wants him to be present at his birthday.”

Verde arched a brow. “It’s dangerous even in that case, for a child. Thrown in that kind of event…”

Reborn smirked. “Are you worried?”

The scientist blinked blankly. “No.”

“Denying the obvious…” He stood and climbed down the stairs to the lower level.

The green-haired man huffed silently. He was not worried. Not for a child that had raided his peaceful paradise with the most annoying person in the whole world. Absolutely not.

A whispered yell reached him and he groaned, slightly annoyed.

“Denying the obvious, Verde.”

 

Turned out Tsuna’s cooking really was addicting. He was no pro, of course, he was still a child. However, those dishes he knew how to prepare were delicious. Something told Verde that the care Tsuna put in cooking was the key. Simple recipes, nothing too hard, but they were good, with the right amount of spices. Some traditional Japanese dishes, some Italian and also a few Chinese ones. It was at the dinner table with these last ones that Fon’s name came into the conversation.

“Rumours were true.”

“He’s in hiding, we’ve been his guests last year.” Reborn sipped some red wine.

“I wonder how Kyouya’s doing…” Tsuna smiled softly.

“And what are his plans?”

“I think he wants to train his nephew for some more years before destroying them.”

Verde hummed. “You’ll help him.”

“If he asks.” The hitman smirked. “And you would, too.”

The scientist scoffed. “I’d use the guinea pigs, obviously. I need samples. Plus, your student’s flames are too strong to be helpful.”

Reborn arched a brow, looking at Tsuna, that was taking water from the fridge. “Adjust the parameters. You know Sky flames are hard to come by.”

“Easier said than done.” He commented before taking a bite.

“How long do you plan on staying here, hidden like a hermit?”

Verde scowled. “The necessary time to finish my researches.” He eyed the other warily. “What are you plotting?”

Reborn scoffed. “I was wondering which of us would resist Tsuna’s flames longer.”

The _jerk_. “I’m not resisting.”

“Yes, you are. Believe me, I know how you are feeling.” He went on before the other could interrupt him. “How can this child be able to do this? Resisting it won’t help you.”

Verde glanced at the boy. Tsuna was sitting on the sofa, petting Leon and Keiman. His eyes were betraying sleepiness.

“Why are you both stalling your bond?” He couldn’t help but ask.

Reborn’s face became carefully blank. “I won’t let it happen again, Verde.” His words were icy cold. “He is still too young for the bond to happen. Until I cannot be sure he is able to protect himself, I will resist.” A smirk creeped on his lips. “But this doesn’t mean I haven’t accepted that I _want_ it to happen.”

The scientist stayed silent for some seconds. “What makes you think I want?”

The raven gave him a look. Like: are you serious? Verde held the gaze. Reborn seemed to _sigh_. He looked at Tsuna, that was by then sleeping softly.

“I bet that, in this month, you’ll change your mind.”

It was strange and… foreboding that the ever-smirking hitman just stood and took Tsuna to bed with delicate and kind arms.

 

A few days later, Verde found himself taking care of a severely feverish child. Reborn had gone who knew where to take care of another ‘important but annoying’ issue. His interest about this something had grown, considering the hitman had gone even though Tsuna had already been showing the first symptoms of illness, but he’d kept his mouth shut and silently accepted the burden of taking care of the boy.

Keiman was curled on his left, looking worriedly at his face and the scientist’s. It was strange to see his companion’s brows furrowed, he’d never seen him like that, not even during fights. Verde took the dry towel from Tsuna’s head and soaked it in the bowl with fresh water. He wringed it of the excessive liquid and folded the clothe to put it back on the hot forehead. The boy frowned, still sleeping, but exhaled in relief.

He stood from his crouched position beside the bed and sighed, scratching his nape. This was not how he was supposed to use hit time. He had started working on how these weapons worked. They had to be triggered by flames, that was fine and already half dealt with, but _what_ exactly could they do?

Feeling defeated, he sat on the armchair at the right of the bed and crossed his arms, thinking deeply.

His main goal was to make sure nothing like what happened to their Sky had a replay, anywhere in the world. Losing the free air in which someone learned to breath freely, to feel comforted, accepted, understood… It was something he wished to no one, not even his enemies. It left a Guardian broken, thorn, missing pieces he hadn’t known could be taken away… hadn’t known were there in the first place. Care, it was something Verde personally hadn’t even noticed was there… People said that one understood how much a thing valued only when he lost it. True enough, it had gone that way for the scientist.

Stopping the mental digression and the painful memories of how Luce had been killed while away from her Guardians, Verde took some papers from the pocket of his white lab coat and carefully analysed them.

First of all, the weapons needed to be small, easy to carry and hide. Something that didn’t attract suspicions, that went unnoticed, similarly to how it was normal to have a tattoo or wear glasses. Second, this weapon needed a trigger in the form of flames, but how to inject them? He was used to manifest them, to use them at his will – and Tsuna doing the same weeks prior had made him forget people were _not_ that versatile in doing that –, but others needed something that made it easier, with the same carefulness in size and possibility to hide it. So, which?

It was like thinking of a syringe and a muscle. Something to take out the flames, manifest them and inject them in another object, both small, easily hidden and usable. Of course, Mafiosi couldn’t just go around sporting a syringe, so the need of a good idea was eating him alive. Also, if the weapon was supposed to be that way, then it would be advisable to just seal the real one in the easy-to-hide something.

For instance, he knew men that used knives. Although it was easy, by then, for them to hide them and carry a lot, the need to carry more or to, like, _create_ ones made of flames… wouldn’t that be comfy?

So, something little to hide the true weapon, that maybe could fit in a pocket, which could be activated by another object. This one, thinking about it, had to be at one’s disposal immediately. Because, in a suddenly dangerous situation, taking one thing was fine, but two was probably deadly. So, something that someone could wear, maybe.

He noted down what he’d thought for later search around the net. With the growing communities, shopping websites and blogs, he was sure to find a needed inspiration for what to try to design.

A wail made him look up. He blinked, a brow arching inquisitively. He was sure he had closed the entrance door…

A big, black male wolf was sitting on the floor on the other side of the bed. He was watching with scanning, narrowed eyes the two pups curled on the blue bedsheets. Those, grey and white, were wailing softly while licking one hand of the sick child. There were no dirty prints, so he resisted the urge to use the sleeping gas and put the files aside. He wanted to understand, this time.

During the stay of his guests, they had gone outside several times. For groceries, stocking up, clothes – Tsuna had grown a little bit, so he _obviously_ needed new ones –, toiletries and air. Apparently, staying coped up in an underwater laboratory was not healthy for a child, Reborn’s words. Anyway, each time the wolves would happily greet the boy with wagging tails and dangling tongues. All but the pack leader, the one sitting beside the bed, that had simply accepted the new pup with ever-scanning eyes. Those times, Verde had been unable to gather data out of the strange behaviour. His pragmatic mind had to understand, though.

He could find only one believable explanation.

Animals in general, especially carnivores, were driven by instincts born within them immediately after breathing the first time in the world. Considering this, what did they base their judgement on about others? Smell, sight, atmosphere… maybe, just maybe, even on flames.

As far as he his knowledge went, animals were not capable of feeling them. Even to humans, the concept of flames was still abstract, instinctive, not easily put into words… But, thinking about it, wasn’t _that_ exactly the reason why this possibility seemed all the more reasonable? Instincts were natural to animals.

Sky flames had always had peculiar attributes, like acceptance, kindness, harmony… Harmonizing. Verde blinked, astonished at what his train of thoughts had discovered. Tsuna was inadvertently, successfully and effortlessly _harmonizing_ with _wolves_. The animals were able to feel that he was no threat, but instead someone welcome in the pack, by simply sniffing his pure flames, effectively reading the truth behind his actions by believing in the flames’ nature.

The question, however, was if this bond could exist for other kind of flames. A Sky could probably harmonize with every animal, as it did with every kind of flames… So, could it be a problem of which flame the animal in question was more prone to trust? More correctly speaking, were animals divided into category of flames, too? That were similar to humans? It was a possibility, Verde would not put it aside without further experimenting and proofs.

… What if he could use this for the weapons he was trying to create?

He had thought about sealing them in an easy-to-carry object and was not sure about what to seal, so… animals? Was it possible at all?

Thinking about it…

Flames were not active in humans in the same manner. There were people that didn’t know of their existence and never would, there were others that knew but that couldn’t ever use them, there were more that could feel them as some psychic entity… Very few, especially in Mafia, could use, feel and categorize them, some with effort, some as if drinking some water. Tsuna was one of the latter, Arcobaleno were, too.

What if the animals were like that, too? Some could feel them, some couldn’t, some had more, some less… What if some were so gifted, like the child, that they could _use_ flames?

He couldn’t be sure about that hypothesis, but… Briefly, he wondered if Tsuna, so flames-aware, had ever felt or met an animal like that. He knew for a fact that the Arcobaleno’s companions couldn’t. Keiman helped him whenever needed, but never with flames. That was Verde’s duty and possibility.

A gasp made his eyes focus on the dimly lit room. Tsuna was thrashing with little strength on the bed, causing the sleeping pups to wake up and start wailing. The pack leader growled lowly and the two jumped on the floor, hiding behind his front legs.

Verde took that as a sign of respect – it was strange to think like that of animals, but, after his recent thoughts, he couldn’t do differently – and stood to check on the child. Tsuna was weakly shaking his head, soft ‘no’ leaving his lips, brows narrowed and eyelids tightly closed. It seemed like a nightmare induced by the high fever. The scientist had given him medicines an hour or so prior, why weren’t they working?

Uncertain, Verde put a hand on the other’s shoulder and shook him a bit. “Tsunayoshi, wake up.” He was not one for softness, but his voice came out a bit strained.

The boy thrashed more, a bead of sweat on his face. “No…… Let….. Stop…. Kaa-san….. No…!” He was starting to become more frantic.

Verde understood. More than a nightmare, it probably was a memory of his trauma, ten-fold worse because of his childish fears. The man slightly shook him again, with both hands, but the boy flinched and tried to break free. He let him, but then took his hand and brushed his through the other’s hair. The illness could get worse if the psychological state worsened, so he had to calm him down.

The scientist massaged his head, trying to be delicate. “Tsunayoshi.” He called as the boy slowly relaxed and his breath evened. “It’s only a nightmare.” He hoped his voice was a little bit soothing, but had his doubts about that.

Two amber eyes fluttered open, rapidly assessing the surroundings in a calm wariness. They landed on Verde, then turned to the chocolate brown he was used to see. Keiman, beside him, curled around his waist, visibly worried.

Tsuna looked confused. “I…” His voice trembled, though he didn’t know if it was because of the fever or thanks to the nightmare. “I’m sorry…” He continued, even though the scientist was trying to make him stop. “I’ll stay… put… I won’t try… to escape… Please… stop…” Verde froze. “Don’t…” The usually carefree eyes were wide, scared and started leaking big, fearful tears. “Don’t do… that again… Please…”

He could feel his blood boil as Tsuna hiccupped and tried to move away, afraid like only an abused child would be. Someone… Someone had done… _this_. It was _inhuman_. He moved and, later, he would find it had not been a forced thing.

Verde made the other sit up, fighting delicately the escape attempts, and pressed the boy’s head against his chest, hand still combing the soft hair. With the other, he massaged softly his back, careful of not going too low. Tsuna had frozen midway to that, crying silently but more. He felt his shirt get wet.

“Everything is fine, Tsuna.” The child flinched. “No one here will do you any harm.” That was a promise. “I and Reborn will protect you.” The tremors that had taken hold of the little body started diminishing and Verde began lulling him with his own. “It’s okay, you’re safe now.” And the boy finally, _slowly_ relaxed. “Sleep, you need to rest.”

Two trembling arms sneaked around his torso and gripped the shirt under the lab coat as if he was a life line. The crying continued, but it was out of desperation, not of fear. Tsuna was simply letting out everything. Little, muffled wails escaped and Verde couldn’t do more than hold him tighter, wary of letting him breath. Fifteen minutes passed before the boy fell asleep. The man tried to pry him off, but the strength hadn’t left the limbs. He still needed to rest properly, though, and sleeping while sitting up was not good.

With a sigh of defeat, Verde manoeuvred Tsuna and himself on a laying down position, under the covers. It was a bit hot, but he could live. The pups and, surprisingly, the pack leader jumped on the bed and positioned themselves at either side of them while the adult wolf laid on their feet, seemingly keeping watch. Keiman just curled on the pillow.

Before he could notice it, the several, even breaths lulled him to sleep.

 

He woke up, some hours later, to the sound of silky footsteps. He brushed a hand on his face, adjusting his glasses and looked around. Verde remembered what had happened and resisted the urge to blush at his own actions. He swiftly escaped the loose arms’ hold, moving the head on his chest to the pillow, and stood, careful of the still sleeping cub on that side of the bed. The adult wolf merely yawned and laid his head on his front legs.

As he stood to stretch, Reborn climbed down the spiral staircase and arched a brow at his messy state. He then looked at the bed and the other brow was lifted in wonder. He shook his head, probably not wanting to deal with it, and approached the sleeping form of his student. The hitman put a hand on the forehead, from which the by then dry towel had fallen to the ground, and hummed. Leon jumped from his perch on the man’s shoulder to the pillow, licking the boy’s cheek and curling next to it.

“He’s better.” He lifted the other hand to lay a plastic bag on the nightstand. “I’ve brought more medicines.” Then he looked up at his colleague. “What happened.”

Verde somehow feared telling him, but he also wanted to know more details. He was strangely blood-thirsty.

“He’s had a nightmare about his mother, I suppose.” Reborn frowned, probably trying to hide his feelings about that. “When I woke him up, he begged me to not ‘do that again’.” The hitman, at that, darkened and growled. “Please, do enlighten me.”

Reborn assessed him with a raging glare for some moments. He looked down, fedora’s brim covering his eyes, before going in the kitchen. Verde followed, sitting in front of him at the table.

The raven’s voice was low and brimming with desire for blood. “His mother was killed by Mafiosi. They kidnapped him for ransom, which Iemitsu paid. During those months…” He paused, jaws clenched and eyes still hidden. “One of them abused him repeatedly, few times a week.”

The one time he’d wanted to be wrong, his desire had been futile. “Who.” His blood froze as Verde narrowed his eyes and thought about creative ways of dealing with them.

“An enemy Famiglia of Vongola.” He became rigid, as if ready to kill on sight during an assassination. “Iemitsu has killed them all when he’s gone to save his son, but…” The bloodlust permeated the room. “We’ve recently discovered someone has escaped, that day.”

“How?”

Reborn lifted his dark, annoyed gaze. “The one that had reported some deaths has repented and confessed that he’d lied out of terror of his Boss, crying and begging for forgiveness. Apparently, there have been five to ten escapees.” He pursed his lips. “Abuser included.”

“… That’s the reason behind your ‘missions’?” He _tried_ to control his rage.

The hitman hummed. “Partly.” He sighed, slightly more relaxed. “Varia has gone berserk finding this out, so they’re searching for the ‘piece of shit that should be thought the pain of rage/knives/electricity/skinning/illusions’ _and_ for Tsuna, because they’re worried and _can’t stay put_.” He paused. “Or trust me, for all it matters.” He leaned on the back of the chair. “Anyway, I had to erase any trace we might have left, just to be sure… And dig some.” He looked aside. “I found nothing.”

Well… “Maybe I can help with that.” And he was _eager_ to do so.

Reborn looked thoughtful. “They’re no novices. For five months they’ve kept Tsuna before being located. Trying won’t hurt, but I’m not so hopeful.” Nonetheless, a folder appearing out of nowhere was slid on the table towards the scientist.

“You offend me.” Verde stood, taking it and directing his steps to the staircase. “Take care of him and cook something nutritional before giving him the medicine.”

He ignored the knowing smirk and set to work. He had to find these bastards.

 

It was not easy. Not that he’d hoped so.

The information he had were about general features, the name of the Famiglia and its main occupation. He found near to nothing. Previous location, that had been stormed by Varia recently. He knew little about them, but the summary Reborn had offered with the details of torture reflected the chaos that had been left in that place. The article said that the abandoned facility had caught fire after a series of _ten thunders_ hit the building. A big hint. He briefly wondered what they had found to be so irate… Or maybe they had been so since arriving, who knew.

Anyway, he’d found one man’s several fake identities. This one had frequently visited Amsterdam, more precisely the red-light district. Verde was not one to jump to conclusion, but seeing he always asked for younger men… Well, let’s say he had immediately become his number one priority in the search of the bastards.

A week and a half passed before Tsuna was completely up and about. In the first days, he kept passing out right after eating and taking his medicines while Reborn and Verde took turns in watching over him. The wolves did leave from time to time, probably to go eat and hunt, but they always returned, sometimes bringing friends. After six days, the child finally started being more lucid, but didn’t remember what had happened with Verde because of the nightmare. Fortunately, if he could have an opinion.

“But I’m fine…” In all the months he had hosted the two, this was the first time the man heard something resembling a whine.

“No, you’re not. No training until we go back.” Reborn was firm, but Verde could see the effort in his eyes to resist the puppy ones.

Tsuna _pouted_. The scientist resisted the urge to snicker at the hitman’s betrayed expression.

“Do not use that technique on me, it doesn’t work.”

“Meanie.”

Reborn subtly _flinched_. “You can do better.”

Verde wondered if that was called being grounded or something in the children’s vocabulary. Like a punishment. But Tsuna hadn’t done anything, he was simply convalescent and needed rest to not have a relapse. Grounded from the boy’s point of view, sure, but Reborn was only doing what was best. With some effort.

Between delicious meals, studying sessions, outings and wolves coming on their own accord – finding hair piling in the corners of the rooms was not nice –, the remaining days of their stay passed by in a flash. Before he knew it, he was seeing them off with the pack at his sides. Tsuna was completely healed and smiling again, thing that warmed his chest, damn it. Reborn was looking smugly at him and Verde couldn’t even begin to deny what he was thinking.

“Thank you for letting us stay, Verde-san.” The boy’s voice made him look down. “I know it was a burden, but we’re thankful.”

The scientist waited a moment, then crouched down and put a hand on his hair. “No worries, stay safe.” Tsuna smiled brightly and Verde felt like banging his head against a wall, but resisted. “I have a few questions first, though.” He nodded eagerly. “Have you ever encountered flames’ animals?”

Reborn arched a brow as Tsuna thought about it. “I think… On Mount Lu, I’ve seen a porcupine that had Cloud flames… He’d taken a liking to Kyouya, but didn’t dare come near.”

_Bingo, I was right._ “Next question then, what would you use to seal a weapon into? And what to inject flames in that object?”

Tsun frowned. “I think… A box?” It was like a bulb was suddenly lit in his head. “Oh, and rings! Because I’ve already used one like that.”

Verde blinked. “How?”

“Well… Grandpa Giotto was in the room but no one could see him or his family, so I… uhm… I used my flames like I did when you took my parameters.” He said the word carefully and slowly. “While holding onto the ring and…”

“Ghosts popped out of nowhere.” Reborn massaged his forehead. “Believe it or not, but I was there.”

“I see…” Not at all. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome!”

Reborn took the child’s hand and started tugging him away. “We’re going to be late for our flight.” He nodded at Verde.

“Right… See you soon! Take care of the wolves, please!”

Despite not wanting to, the scientist nodded. Keiman curled around his feet, but they returned inside when the two disappeared through the trees. Strangely, all the wolves followed and settled inside. It was a bit unnerving.

So, rings used to inject flames into a box where weapons were sealed?

…

It sounded like something straight out of a cartoon or something…

But, well, Verde like the idea.

 

Unknown to him, Reborn secretly had a new photo to add to his personal album of blackmailing.


	9. 09 – Hayato

Hayato was excited.

It was strange, because it was the first time since the death of his piano’s teacher. He’d felt only void until some days prior. Now, though, the simple thought that he was going to attend Vongola Nono’s party with Father was making him jittery, pleasantly so.

It was a good change, even though his sister had to come with them. He couldn’t look at her face anymore without some kind of filter, thanks to that… that _cooking_. Luckily, it was a masked party, so he wouldn’t have to put up with the embarrassment of fainting in front of so many important people – Vongola, most of all.

That Famiglia was the strongest, the most respected, the most powerful out of every Famiglia ever known. As he’d read once in a book, it was also the very first Mafia Famiglia to be born, and it still had that pedestal among the others. Feared, looked up to, loyal, smart… Such were Vongola people… Hayato wanted nothing more than to be part of it.

He’d heard of a strange rumour that made his dream slightly more tangible. There was, apparently, a kid among Vongola’s ranks. It was not an unusual thing, Mafia was ruled by blood-related family members, as he’s always been taught. The strange thing was that no one knew who this kid was. He’d asked everyone he could, even his Father, but the mystery had not been solved and the latter had even brushed off the rumour, saying it wasn’t possible. Vongola Nono was too old to have children and his wife was dead. His Father had saddened a bit while saying those words, though he didn’t know why.

The car stopped, jerking him away from his little bubble. They had arrived and Hayato almost yelped in his excitement. He wanted to be out of that car and at the masked party, _asap_!! Vongola was waiting for him past that enormous door!

He didn’t even check that his sister had the mask on, only that he was wearing his own, then he took his Father’s hand and stubbornly stopped his instinct to jump like a spring. Always in control, that was what he’d been taught. Vongola was going to see his best behaviour and recognize he was worth being part of the Famiglia!

 

Well… this was _boring_.

Hayato huffed, softly yanking his hand from Father’s one, and crossed his arms, pouting. The man looked down at him briefly.

“Don’t get lost, stay by my side.”

He nodded. In that swarm of unworthy people there was not even a single Vongola. Why were they so _late_? Ok, it was still half past eight, but… there were hosts to greet and there were a _lot_ , when would be Hayato’s turn like that? Midnight?! He focused to not curse in his mind, that pervert doctor’s influence was not good.

Hayato turned around when his sister looked at him and forced himself to watch the people. There were many men in sleek suits, talking among themselves with crystal glasses in one hand and, sometimes, cigars in the other. There were very few women, all not wearing dresses but suits, too. In Mafia, women were either masculine or kept aside, away from dangers. It was normal. They were different from her…

So, there he was, surrounded by tall – taller than himself, it was unnerving, when was he going to _grow up_?! _–_ black-wearing people that found his and his sister’s presence not fit. There were kids, yes, he’d seen some running around, only to be man-handled right after. This was an official feast for the most powerful mafioso’s birthday, not a kindergarten!

He didn’t have friends his age. His piano was all he needed, plus he wanted a Famiglia, not friends. He wanted to be stronger, to train and be someone worthy… someone who could protect his dear ones.

Hayato repressed the traitorous tears and huffed. It was not time to weep. He had already and this was an important occasion for him. He shook his head and looked around.

…

Well, great. Now he had to find his Father and that poisonous snake of a sister. He had also told him to stay close… That was bound to call for a punishment or something, though Father had never done it.

With a sigh, he started moving in the thick sea of people, wary of not touching them just to not be forced to apologize. Good thing there were hardly fat men in Mafia.

“… that it’s better to shut the business…”

“… though what’s to analyse is the weapon’s marketing…”

Money. Mafia was built on… what was that long word… patronage and money. It was like having sponsors, but stronger and more powerful, in both physical and political aspects.

“… Hong Kong. We have deployed some…”

“… brother will take care of the issue in…”

Fights. Strong in body more than in power, to tower over others.

“… some deaths. The scientists are working on a…”

“… those bitches are insufferable. I’d slice their throats…”

Trafficking. Women, drugs, smoke, weapons. Name one, mafia had its tentacles in it.

“… just relax, you know?”

Hayato perked up, stopping his research. Someone not talking about business? That was new, and it was a woman’s voice. Women were even more serious than men, because they knew their position was always in danger.

“I want that thing out of his room. And I want it out yesterday.”

This, instead, was a deep, low baritone. A strong, composed man’s voice. A dangerous one, he shivered despite his control.

“Although I can understand your worry, it’s harmless.”

“It’s not normal to have that thing in a residence in the first place, but he keeps it in his _bedroom_.”

The boy tried to find the two speaking people, but, oddly, he couldn’t locate them. He furrowed his brows, still looking around and following the sound of those voices.

“Where is he, anyway?”

“With Lussuria. He’ll come with them.”

“… Now, I’d be worried more about this than that one.”

Hayato noticed the voices were a bit muffled, so he started checking behind some curtains. It was like searching for the maids when they played hide-and-seek with them. They always teased him…

“Why on earth has that _idiot_ said yes?”

“Reborn, you have troubles refusing him som...”

The boy froze, losing the last bit of the sentence. He looked around warily and carefully stepped away from the supposed location of the two. He checked to be far enough before relaxing and letting reality hit him.

Reborn. The name of the World’s Greatest Hitman. The legend that had Mafia on its toes because of fame only. The freelance that had earned an advantageous contract with Vongola, of all the Famiglie. The demon that had destroyed an international organization just to obtain the trust of Vongola Nono.

In few words, Hayato was having a breakdown. It was like… Not only was he at Vongola’s Boss’s birthday party, but there was a whole new level of awesomeness with that man being present. He was a shadow, invisible, unapproachable, perfect… He was Hayato’s objective. Thus, he was officially panicking.

He didn’t even register when something warm suddenly pulled his wrist. Red fell on him. Red, velvet curtains. He looked around, a bit frantic. His eyes adjusted to the change and a shorter boy was in front of him. A brunette, with big eyes a warmer colour than the hair, dressed in black, sleek trousers and a white undershirt with a few upper buttons loose. He was pressing one index on his own mouth, signalling to stay silent. His mask was silver, covering the upper half of his face.

No sh–… Ehm, he wasn’t absolutely going to breath, what with a demon just at the other side of the room. Hayato was basically a fan, but not as stupid as to go flailing about after his idol like those fanatics he saw on tv – when he actually watched it. He had more pressing matters, like learning new fighting styles to, one day, stand at the same level as Reborn. A nice dream.

“Who are you?” He asked when the boy took a breath of relief.

The brunette looked at him and smiled softly. “I’m Tsuna, nice to meet you.”

“Hayato.” The other blinked confusedly.

Yeah, he didn’t know why his name was from so far, instead of an Italian one. His Father never answered that question, becoming suddenly silent and sad. Duh. Wait, wasn’t the boy’s name Asian, too?

“I see…”

“Why did you bring me here?” He eyed the grasp on his wrist.

Tsuna let go – the warmth disappeared, Hayato felt cold. “I was escaping my… uhm… my Home Tutor. I didn’t want him to mistake you for me, so I hid you, just in case.” He looked through the little gap between the curtains. “Clear.” He smiled, thoughtfully humming. “Do you want to go outside? This thing is boring.”

Well, it sounded more interesting – and safer – than staying in that sea of people. Problem was… His Father was probably already looking for him and Hayato didn’t want to anger him further. Plus, who knew when Vongola Nono would come?

He shook his head. “I need to find my Father.” He said, studying the other kid. “I’ve lost him in the crowd.”

“Oh, that’s sad.” Tsuna immediately looked determined. “I’ll help you, let’s go.”

Once again, his wrist got caught in a soft, strong and _warm_ grip and Hayato found himself walking through the black pants’ forest. He didn’t know why this brunette was suddenly eager to help. Heck, he didn’t even know his Father’s features, why was he leading??

“Wait–“

“Hayato, here you are.”

Tsuna stopped to look at him with a smile. In front of them, his Father had just released a breath of relief. His sister was holding one of his big hands with a suspiciously purple muffin in the other free limb. The child swallowed, marvelling at how _simple_ it had been to find them for Tsuna.

“Father, I’m sorry.”

The man leaned down to pat his hair with an indulgent smile. “Don’t worry.” He looked at the brunette. “Thank you.”

“No problem, sir. Can I kidnap him?” He innocently lifted a finger to point at Hayato.

Bianchi frowned as his Father chuckled. “Be careful.”

The smile became blinding. “Yes, sir!”

And off they were. Hayato felt oddly manoeuvred through the crowd. Strangely, he touched no one and had not to ask for forgiveness for being rude. It resembled a miracle, considering the speed at which Tsuna was making his way towards… Outside?

In fact, he found himself in the gardens, but not the ones in front of the villa, that were lighted for the guests. They were in the backyards, where little light reached, and alone. Hayato could see some stone benches, neatly squared bushes and a few trees in the darkness. Tsuna led him to sit down on the – luckily not freshly – mowed grass, one in front of the other. The warmth left again – the silver-haired’s mouth almost let out a whine – and cards appeared between them.

“Wanna play Briscola?”

He gaped. “There’s not even enough li–“

A black street lamp was turned on – by _who,_ exactly? Hayato looked around, a little scared, then back at Tsuna… that was innocently smiling at him. He arched an unimpressed brow, arms crossed on his chest. The smile didn’t waver. Nice move.

“Fine.” What could go wrong?

Tsuna shuffled the deck of cards swiftly, smile brighter. He seemed used to it. One minute later, three cards were in each’s hand, the deck was on the grass and a single card was under it, visible and upturned. It was the suit that got to be the Briscola during the game. It started slow, Hayato wasn’t that interested in playing – the maids were the ones who played hide-and-seek with him, nothing more, not _kids_ – but then… He was losing terribly. If it hadn’t been for him having the strongest cards of Briscola since turn one, then he would have had 0 points. Tsuna chuckled, the dare…

“Let’s try again.”

Hayato was on. He wouldn’t lose.

… He lost. Less terribly, but he lost. Tsuna smiled, not as innocently as before – there was the bare hint of a smirk –, and shuffled the deck again.

“One more go?”

“Of course.” He was starting to like this thing.

Tsuna gave the cards. “Where do you come from, Hayato?”

He hummed, choosing the card to use. “North Italia, around Torino.” He chose the lady of Bastoni (number 8) and waited the other’s turn. “You?”

“I’m from Japan.” Tsuna won the cards with a king of Bastoni (number 10) and drew the new card from the deck. “My dad brought me to Italia, some years ago.” Hayato did the same with a light frown.

“Why?” The question was out of his mouth before he could register how impolite it was.

He flinched and almost bit his tongue, ready to apologize. The sound died in his throat when he saw the kid’s eyes. They were infinitely sad, but there was a kind smile on his lips. He was looking down at his cards, but his eyes were unfocused.

“Circumstances…” He stopped. “Let’s say he did the right thing.”

The smile got truer as he looked up at Hayato, that was a bit out of words. Those reactions… resembled a lot what he’d gone through when he’d been told about his piano teacher’s death. He’d been sad, so much that days had blurred in the aftermath, but then… He didn’t want to admit it out oud, but his sister had helped, as much as Father had. Bianchi had tried her best to play the piano – she’d been _so_ horrible Hayato had intervened, pushed her off the stool and started playing… That had been her final purpose, because she’d stayed on the floor, looking at him through the demon mask with a smile on her lips. Father, on the other hand, had been sure to have Hayato’s favourite dishes prepared for a week during meals and the fridge had oddly been full of snacks… His Father was not perfect, he didn’t invest time by staying with them, but… Well, he tried, at least.

“And you?”

He looked up from the grass. “Eh?”

“Why do you have a Japanese name?”

Hayato mentally shook himself and diverged his gaze from the studying eyes. “I don’t know. Father never answers when I ask.”

The silver-haired blinked in shock. Had he imagined it or a flash of orange had just passed through the other’s eyes? That was… well, impossible.

“I see. He must have his reasons.” He hummed, focusing on the game. “Do you have a hobby? Something you like to do?”

… Was this how kids his age bonded? Hayato had observed them, it was a natural thing that he wasn’t able to replicate. This… How to say it… Seemed a way adults came to know each other… It was strange, but they were both in Mafia, so…

“I play the piano.”

The other looked up with sparkling eyes. “Really? That’s beautiful!”

Hayato blushed. “Uhm… Thank you…”

“Can you show me?”

He blinked. “But–“

“I know where the piano is, and the celebrated isn’t going to show up for a bit more.” … How did he know that…? “So?”

The other’s eyes became round and… begging and… Hayato was already nodding. The cards were promptly gathered and the warmth wrapped itself around his wrist. He was on his feet before he could blink, walking at a reasonable pace towards… somewhere. This kid sure didn’t know the meaning of ‘no’ or of ‘personal space’…. Not that Hayato was going to complain, actually. The warmth on his wrist was pleasant, though worrying… Was Tsuna running a fever? It didn’t seem the case, what with his energy at jumping from one place to the other.

In fact… They were already inside, navigating in the darkness through corridors Hayato didn’t know. If the kid decided to leave him alone there, he would have been lost. Maybe forever. This was Vongola Mansion, after all, it was huge and…

…

Why the hell were there _no_ _guards_?? And how did he know where to go in the darkness?!

As the other stopped abruptly, Hayato crashed on his back. He was surprised when Tsuna didn’t waver in the least, helping him regain balance. The brunette opened a door, he heard the muffled sound, and closed it when they entered the room. A light momentarily blinded Hayato, that blinked with narrowed eyes, free hand shielding them. He was led for some more steps before Tsuna stopped and he could see clearly again.

The big room was a little theatre, with chairs lined up on two thirds of the wooden floor and a low stage with some instruments on the other side. The piano was beautiful, black and polished. It was literally asking him to be played.

Hayato took a step forward before stopping and looking at Tsuna. He was smiling at him with a hand lifted towards the piano. The warmth left his wrist and the silver-haired kid was already on the stool, lifting the lid off the keyboard.

He had no music sheet, but he remembered the favourite song of his piano teacher. That would do. He briefly looked at the other and found Tsuna sitting on a chair of the first line, patiently waiting with an encouraging smile. Well, at least his sister was not there to make him look like a fool.

He positioned his hand on the keys and closed his eyes, focusing. He felt his fingers move and the soft, tranquil tune drifted away from the strings. It was calming and soothing, but… It also reminded him of the lost peaceful lessons with her. The time when she brought him a new song, the way she taught him how to be delicate on the keys, the beauty with which she could bring music to life… And she found time to play with him… She was warm, warmer than his sister and Father.

The feeling of something touching his shoulder made Hayato flinch and stop playing. He looked around to find Tsuna standing beside him and… the same that had happened on his wrist was spreading through his body from his shoulder. It was… pure warmth.

“Here.” He lifted a hand, a handkerchief on the palm.

Hayato blinked, only then realizing he’d been crying. He blushed, taking the object with a thanking nod and wiping away the tears.

“Sorry.”

Tsuna smiled softly. “A loss is hard to accept, don’t worry.”

Before Hayato could process those words, the door opened and a… a strange man entered.

“Tsu-chan! Here you are! We’ve been looking for you since you’ve disappeared!”

The kid chuckled. “I’m sorry, I was escaping.” He winked. “He’s still set on kicking him out of my room.”

The green-haired man approached the stage and shuffled the brown, untamed hair. “Don’t worry, use that technique of yours and everything will be ok!”

Tsuna pouted. “Luss-nee, that’s not a _technique_ …”

“Whatever you wish, Tsu-chan.” He hugged the kid, that breathed heavily in advance. “Now we must go, the old man is coming.”

“Oh, ok.” He pushed the other off of him and turned to Hayato, that had observed the scene with some odd feeling. “We should go, come on.”

Tsuna took his wrist, gently making him stand up, and let the man – Luss? – lead them out of the room and back into darkness.

Hayato, honestly, was confused and shocked. First this kid pulls him behind a curtain, then he introduces himself, tracks down – that had been worse than a truffle pork – his Father, asks permission to kidnap him and does _exactly that_ … for one fucking hour! An _hour_!! How had time gone so fast?! That clock must be broken… The clock in the main hall could not be broken, alright.

The chatter of the Mafiosi in the room filled his ears as he noticed they were already back and Tsuna was leading them to… duh, his Father? Hayato was ready to bet that he was.

“Luss-nee, go with the others. I have to find Hayato’s father first.”

“Uhmmm… Ok, Tsu-chan. See you in a few~…”

The man leaned down to peck the brunette on the cheek and ruffled his hair before vanishing – no jokes. Tsuna tugged him towards somewhere with a smile.

“This way.”

Hayato was starting to _finally_ wonder why he was letting this kid, that he’d known for little more than an hour, completely mess his pace and lead him anywhere the other pleased. Heck, that pervert doctor had had so many problems only _trying_ to gain his attention during a boring lesson. Basically, he was an angry kid, this him was… not him, he guessed. But, apparently, he had no problem about it. … Had it been Bianchi, he would have acted like a sassy cat, he knew.

A sudden thump made him stop and be on the ready to apologize. He had not hit someone, though, but a pram. Tsuna, on his right, peeked over the rim and his eyes widened as his smile brightened.

“How cute.”

Hayato, curious, leaned over to see for himself. The baby, with thick, curly black hair looked at him… and started crying. He panicked, suffice to say. The adults all around started turning to them… just as Tsuna lifted a hand and offered a finger to the baby. He stopped the wails, grabbing the limb, and started laughing.

…

Ok, Hayato felt spooked.

“Oh my, Lambo…” A blonde woman with glasses almost squealed, looking at the baby with a happy smile. “Look at you…” She offered her own index, that got trapped in the other hand. “Good boy.” She moved her gaze on the two kids. “Thank you, little one, my son seems to like you.”

Tsuna grinned. “As long as he’s not sad.” He sneaked his finger off Lambo’s grabby hand. “Have a good evening, Miss, we need to go. I apologize for the fuss.”

She chuckled and waved them off with her golden fan. Hayato gaped, waiting to be out of earshot before speaking.

“How did you do that?” He asked slowly, as if still not believing it.

The other shrugged, staring at his right. “It happens… Well, I’ve never tried it on a human, but it works.” His eyes narrowed a fraction.

“… Exactly, _what_ works?” Hayato followed the gaze, locating another kid with a strange hair-colour that was looking at them.

“Ehm… It’s hard to explain.” He scratched his nape, then sharply turned to eye him up and down. “You’ll need an explanation soon, tough.”

“Hayato, welcome back.”

And here was his Father. Tsuna proved to be a lot worse than a truffle pork… and a lot more confusing, too.

He felt the wrist freed and looked at the kid. “Thanks.”

“No, no, I have to thank you.” He waved his hands. “And you, sir.” He looked back at him. “It’s been nice, let’s do it again, ok?”

Bianchi was looking at them with, damn, soft eyes. “Fine.”

And off, the kid vanished through the crowd. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“How did it go, Hayato?”

He looked up at his Father, noticing how he felt a bit tenser. “We played.” _And he made me play the piano… and vent a bit._

Father hummed, taking his hand to lead him and Bianchi towards the room that had just opened and where everyone was heading to. “I’m relieved you’ve found a friend your age.”

Hayato didn’t answer, thoughtful. A friend? They’d only just met. No, they were not friends… And he decided to ignore the strange warmth in his stomach. He was about to meet Vongola Nono, after all.

The new room was bigger, with tables all over the marbled floor with cutleries and wooden chairs. There were no windows, only a big door on the other side, closed. People poured inside and several butlers appeared to lead everyone at a table. His Father followed an old man to a round one. They sat neatly and waited, because that was expected of them.

Hayato looked around, trying to locate the strange brunette. Then he shook his head and focused. He didn’t need stray thoughts… Though, where had Tsuna gone? If he was there for the party – he knew the mansion too well to be a simple guest –, then he ought to be in the room, somewhere. From his point of view, he could see everyone, but there was no sign of the kid. Nor of the strange man that had… Had he referred to Vongolo Nono with ‘old man’…? It… It couldn’t be… right?

“What’s with you?”

Hayato flinched, looking anywhere but at his sister. “Nothing.”

His eyes caught on something. He looked again and then froze. He had heard right, that couldn’t not be Reborn. Black eyes, black hair, fedora with orange band, green chameleon on his shoulder… Wow. _That_ was an hitman. Everything about him screamed to stay away or there would be _consequences_. Cool…!!

“World’s Greatest Hitman, hum?” His Father’s voice brought him down from cloud nine of daydreaming to be like that, one day. “He wears the title as if a coat.” He drank some red wine.

His sister got a dreaming look and Hayato scoffed, eyeing the beverages. He was kind of thirsty, water be it. Father poured him some when he noticed the struggle to reach the glass bottle.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Hayato.”

The kid noticed how his Father resisted the urge to lit a cigar. It usually meant that he was nervous or waiting for something. Maybe he was anxious about Vongola Nono. Hayato could relate, drinking his water and sighing at the cold sensation. Music drifted through the room and the thrum of voices dimmed.

Hayato’s eyes flew again towards Reborn, though he tried to be sneaky. With the World’s Greatest Hitman he wasn’t honestly sure he could be, but one could hope. The man was sitting at a table near the opposite entrance of the room, sipping some wine with a carefully blank expression. On his left was a woman with blue hair and a strange tattoo that resembled a flame on her cheek. She was sighing while looking around, arms crossed, and her male suit was impeccable. There was no one else at that table, but an old butler didn’t move from it.

Suddenly, the other door opened and, finally, Vongola Nono came in. Everyone immediately stood and Hayato had stars in his eyes. He barely heard his Father and his sister chuckle. The Guardians were all present, flanking the Boss with that air of superiority and control that only the best could muster. How _cool_..!!

“Welcome, my friends, and thank you for accepting my invite.” The Boss of the strongest Mafia Famiglia said with a soft but authoritarian smile. “Please, make yourself comfortable and enjoy the feast.”

A hoard of maids with trays overfilled with food streamed in the room, depositing the plates neatly in front of every guest. Vongola Nono didn’t sit but some of his Guardians took a chair at the empty table near Reborn. Two stayed at his sides as he first waited for all the guests to have their plate. He then, kind smile still gracing his lips, started to greet everyone. With a pout, Hayato understood that they would have to wait at least half-an-hour before they could meet him. He resigned himself to eat.

As expected from Vongola, the dishes were impeccable, delicious and perfect. They had chosen Italian recipes for the party, which was advisable. In Hayato’s – and many, _many_ other’s – opinion, Italian cousine was the best. He only knew restaurant, but he’d heard the maids always brag about their mothers’ cooking. Not that he understood a lot about it, but he liked well-cooked meals. And this meat… it melted on his tongue.

“Varia has come…”

Hayato looked around at his Father’s words. His eyes landed on the prior-empty table, near Reborn’s. Varia, Vongola’s elite independent assassination squad. He knew little about them, that was to be expected if they were truly elites – and Vongola couldn’t have less –, but he’d heard something. They were… peculiar, as his Father’s right-hand always said. Each had their own particularity, not normal ones. What was known by everyone was that their Leader, Nono’s son, was anger embodied. He didn’t like weaklings, he had no good relationships and he was unapproachable.

So… why was he ruffling Tsuna’s hair with soft eyes? Why was he sitting down at his table without a fuss, crossing his arms and waiting? Why – just, _how_ – was Tsuna sitting at Reborn’s table with a happy, carefree, ignoring-he-is-about-to-be-killied smile?

Except… the cold-hearted hitman smirked and _helped him sit down_ …

Hayato gaped.

“Good evening.”

The softly authoritative voice brought the boy out of his shock-induced stupor. He whirled around only to be met with kind eyes framed by wrinkles. Vongola Nono was smiling at them, two of his Guardians flanking him. He was wearing a black suit with a white undershirt and a black necktie. He had a cane in his hands to sustain his weight while standing or walking. Hayato poured wonder out of his whole body.

“Good evening, Timoteo, and the best wishes of a happy birthday and days to come.” His father politely said, standing.

They exchanged a handshake. “Thank you, for the wishes and for being here.” He shifted his gaze on them. “I guess they are your children?”

“Yes.” Father lifted a hand and they stood. “She is Bianchi, my daughter.”

His sister tilted her head politely. “It’s an honour to meet you, Signor Vognola. (Mr Vongola)”

“Likewise.” He answered, closing his eyes in a smile.

She blushed a bit. “And he is my son, Hayato.”

He swallowed thickly and tried his best to ignore the panic cursing through his veins. “Pleasure to meet you, Signor Vongola.” His voice didn’t waver, thank _God_ , and he lifted his hand for a shake.

The Mafia Boss eagerly took his limb, though his grip was not tight or too strong. “The pleasure is mine, little one. Nice hold.” He winked as he let him go, Hayato felt heat reach his cheeks. “It’s good to see someone so young tonight, I was hoping for this.”

His Father hummed. “May I ask why?” But his eyes were gazing over Reborn’s table.

“Oh, well.” Vongola Nono chuckled amicably. “Because I wanted for my grandson to befriend someone his age.” He pointed at Tsuna, that waved happily at them. Hayato answered the gesture with a bit of insecurity, too conscious of the surprised but fond gaze and frankly shocked. “I can’t say I’m surprised.” He laughed with his eyes closed.

Hayato closed off the pleasantries his Father and the Boss exchanged in favour of trying to unravel… What. The hell. Was. Happening.

Tsuna was… Nono’s grandson? How was that possible? Nono had four sons. Two were dead, one was missing – had been for years – and Xanxus – the ire – wasn’t married nor in the right age to be. Even if Tsuna was the son of a relationship out of wedlock, there would have been something like an announcement, because this kid was _being presented as a grandson_. It was like saying to the world that he belonged to the Famiglia, _blood-related_. A. Possible. Heir.

… That was currently giggling, probably because Hayato was still gaping. Though…

“Sit down, Hayato.”

He turned to his Father and did as told. He passed the rest of the uneventful evening dealing with his bafflement.

 

Hayato was _done_.

He ran through the streets, head low and eyes open just enough to evade crashing against random people. Tears burned his cheeks, the feeling tingling like a wound.

How could this be… The maids… His Father… His… _half-sister_.

Really… The son of a mistress… The son of a woman that had died in a car accident… The son of his piano teacher.

A swirl of words took hold of his mind in a hurricane and he stopped, leaning on a wall, panting heavily. He didn’t know – didn’t _care_ – where he’d ended. He just slid down in a sitting position and hugged tightly his legs, head hidden in his arms. His body was shaking with sobs and he didn’t… he didn’t care…

She was… _had been his mother_ … Why had no one told him? Why had _she_ not told him? Why had his Father kept it a secret? … Why had he let her die..?!

His tears leaked freely and he gritted his teeth in anger. She’d been cast away. She’d been _thrown aside_ , like a _thing_ that no one could _use_ … Like himself. He could see it clearly now. His Father had never really cared. Maybe he’d decided to hire Lavina as his piano teacher out of pure cruelty. _If_ she had been hired in the first place…

Hayato closed his eyes, letting the hiccups overwhelm him. He focused on remembering the little things, his piano lessons aside. She was… beautiful, kind, patient… always smiling down at him with fond eyes… He understood why, in the end. She was his mother, she couldn’t have told him but she had decided to stay by his side as… as a simple teacher…

There was something shaking him but he ignored whoever that was and tightened his hold.

How could his Father hide this from him? This was _important_ , it was not a detail on some useless report. Lavina was his mother! Hell, she had had a relationship with him, how could he have let… Maybe he didn’t love her. Maybe he had used her, only to throw her aside when she had become a nuisance.

A particularly harsh pull at his hair made Hayato look up in pure rage.

Police, great. Just what he needed. Before the shocked man could grab him by his arm, he stood and ran away. Several shouts reached his ears, but he ducked in alleyways for some minutes, finally losing them. He was in a park, the sun was setting. He hid in a bush and muted the world outside. He wanted to be alone.

 

Hayato didn’t know how much time had passed, but it was dark, his eyes hurt and he had fallen asleep at some point. He looked around warily, not leaving the bush he was hiding in. The park sure had a different atmosphere at night.

There were no children, only adults. Shady adults. Nothing he had not seen in Mafia, but these ones… Well, they lacked grace and self-respect. Thugs. Drug-sellers. Sentinels. The bottom of the ladder. Nothing he had ever concerned himself about. Sure, he had thought that he would have to start from there to climb up in ranks in Vognola – though, from the way things had played during that party months prior, maybe he had some chances in beginning slightly higher –, but now… It was not his priority, to be honest.

He had to come out of this shithole, but he couldn’t without drawing attention. He settled to wait there, he would come out in the morning.

His mind was blank, like the day after knowing about his pia– his mother’s death. He _had_ cried himself to sleep once again, so it was a given. He didn’t want to think, he didn’t want to care, he just laid there, hidden from the world, looking at the starry sky through the leaves of the bush.

Nothing. He counted the stars. Played with them, drew images and feigned recognizing some. He didn’t know their names, never bothered to learn. There were… more important… things…

He clenched a fist on the grass under his body, closing his eyes. He forced his mind to shut down, tired beyond comprehension. He had to ignore the sounds coming from the park, though… no easy feat.

 

Hayato crawled slowly out of his hiding spot and sighed in relief. There was no one around. He patted his pants and shirt of the dirt and looked around.

Now… He needed help.

There was no way he would survive in the unforgiving world on his own. His only chance, though it grated his nerves, was the pervert.

He didn’t know where he was, so the first thing to do would be to find some kind of recognizable building and then search for metro or a train station to ask for direction. His get up was a bit dirty, but acceptable. He couldn’t say the same for his eyes, probably.

Taking a long breath, he turned… Only to bump into someone. He panicked, but stayed rooted to his spot. Mustering all his braveness, he looked up… and wished he hadn’t.

“You’re pretty far from home.”

Why… Just why was _Reborn_ there? He shivered at the calculating gaze and instantly wanted to flee. But he was… paralyzed.

“Seems he was right again, come with me.”

There was no way he could escape, that was why he wasn’t even trying. Hayato tried hard to swallow and resigned himself to do as the World’s Greates Hitman said. He had no chances of getting out of this unscathed.

“Good boy.”

He didn’t feel his pride wounded in the slightest at that. He simply followed the man in silence. What could he do?

They left the park and walked for some minutes. Reborn didn’t even look behind to check Hayato was there… Maybe… Just maybe…

“Don’t.”

Maybe not.

They soon reached a parking area. Reborn stopped at a black Porche and tilted his head to the rear door. He had to get up, huh? Another swallow and the boy opened it. He climbed in and the man closed the door softly. His fists were clenched on his lap as he held back tears, the hitman buckling the belt and starting the car.

He knew where the man was taking him.

_Damn it!!_

 

… Hayato was officially not functioning anymore.

First, he discovers his mother was his piano teacher, thus connecting the dots and knowing she was already dead. Then he flees from his Father, that had been screaming after him to stop. He ends up in a park, has to spend the night there and then… Reborn finds him and… He takes him to Vongola.

He didn’t even bother, this was certainly a nightmare. It would end soon.

The hitman closed the car’s door when he stumbled on the path and nodded towards the door. Two guards were keeping it open as another took the keys to park the car elsewhere. They entered the mansion, that was quiet. A nice change from the day of the party.

Reborn walked slowly through the dimly lit alleyway and stopped at a door. He turned to him, that had reached his side obediently. His lips thinned.

“Be at your best behaviour.”

“No need telling me.” Was his brave answer.

The other hummed, opening the door. It was a living room. Two couches and some armchairs surrounded a low table. The windows were partly covered by red velvet curtains, letting in some light. What he didn’t expect was to se Tsuna sitting on an armchair, legs tucked under him and deeply taken by a big book. The warmth from that night was… was _there_. Like a… like a blanket on the whole room. He felt his eyes tear up.

Reborn cleared his throat. Tsuna looked up and blinked in confusion, then recognition… and then worry. The hitman left, closing the door behind himself.

Before Hayato could hold back everything that was surfacing, he found himself seated in a couch, Tsuna at his side and one of his hands on his own shoulder. All it took for him to explode was that simple touch. The warmth spreading through his skin and blood. The feeling that he was _safe_ , that it _was alright_ , that…

He cried like he never had. Words tumbled out of his mouth, rolling on his tongue out of their own will. Tsuna listened, offered handkerchiefs, his shoulder to cry on, some tea to soothe his burning throat, a cookie because his stomach grumbled… He didn’t utter a word until Hayato felt drained and relaxed completely on the couch, his eyelids dropping.

“It’s okay, Hayato. You can stay in my room for now. Sleep.”

He did.

 

When he woke up, the boy took some time to remember where he was and why he was there. There was a steady breathing sound coming from his left, so he sat up and marvelled at the simple room. This was Vongola, how could there be a so normal bedroom? A low bed, a desk, a low table, pale white walls, a single window. He’d expected at least a canopy bed.

He let his legs dangle on one side and sighed.

He’d… He had whined like a child. To Nono’s grandson. In Vongola Mansion. What a brat…

The only door opened and Tsuna entered with a small smile. He promptly went near the bed. The warmth came back to envelop Hayato.

“How are you feeling?”

How was he–… He was… better, actually. Sore, a bit tired, but… He was feeling better. Not on the verge of destroying himself anymore.

He pursed his lips. “I… I’m better… t-thank you…”

The smile on Tsuna’s lips brightened. “That’s wonderful. Do you want to talk about it?”

Hayato arched a brow. “You wa–“ He censored himself. “Why?”

“Because you talked, before. Now, I want to have a conversation.” He sat at the low table and patted the empty spot at his right. “Come sit here.”

The silver-haired did. “Are–“ Uhm… “I don’t want to impose.”

He chuckled, waving a hand. “I’m offering. And, please, drop the politeness, I don’t like it. Be yourself.”

“… What do you want to talk about?”

Tsuna’s eyes sharpened. “You told me your father doesn’t care about you.” _So straight…_ “I do not agree.”

A spike of anger went through Hayato’s chest, that huffed. “Why.”

“Because I saw how he looks at you.” His eyes, this time, softened, and he leaned his head on a hand. “My father had the same look… Uhm, maybe a bit more starry. But the feelings are the same. He is proud.” He looked at him with a certainty that left the other slightly gaping. “He truly loves you. Trust me on this.” Then he smiled. “And your sister, too. She seems… A bit strange, but she cares about you.”

“I do–“

“I’m sure.” A flash of gold passed through the brunette’s eyes. “I have no doubts about it.” The warmth tightened around his body, making him feel lighter and… He wanted to trust Tsuna. “I have a proposition.” Hayato straightened, but slightly feared it. “Meet them. Let them explain. Then you decide.”

Why did everything Tsuna said sound so _acceptable_?

 

In the end, the meeting was arranged at Vongola. Hayato didn’t even want to think about it. He felt indebted infinitely as it was, already.

His Father did love his mother. He did care about him. Following Tsuna’s advice, he had tried to study him, his behaviour, his eyes… He could see the truth. The tangible care…

He’d been stupid.

“That’s one reason why everyone needs friends.” Tsuna had answered when he’d pointed that out.

After the whole fiasco, he had started to visit frequently and pass time with the brunette. Be it to play, to talk, to stay silent, to train and study… _Reborn_ was his tutor. That was mind-blowing. Even more so was how the hitman… changed with Tsuna. He had few encounters to back that hypothesis, so he had not studied him a lot.

As for Tsuna himself, Hayato felt like he had found a true friend. He discovered, after a few weeks, how his own goal had changed in his daily life. Before, it had been to become strong to be part of a stronger Famiglia. As it was, he wanted to be stronger and stronger, but to protect what he already had. His family and Tsuna. He would have been alone, lost and destroyed if it had not been for him. He had later discovered that the brunette had sent the hitman in that area of the town. Totally incredible.

It was not a surprise to discover how much his admiration of Tsuna was growing. Though, he didn’t know how to interpret the way Reborn face-palmed in his presence, sometimes. He’d met Nono on a few more occasions, but he’d been kind and accepting. Tsuna’s warmth didn’t leave him a second, it was soothing and warming and secure. He often heard the guards whine about some fight or another, but he didn’t know whose exactly and he didn’t ask. The notion that his friend had a _growing lion_ in his room was enough to deter him from going in there anymore. He had _slept_ there… He had a panick attack the first time Tsuna brought that up – Reborn muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

But, well… he was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up is Mukuro! See ya!


	10. 10 – Mukuro - Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I need to warn you all. There's torture on children. I hated myself writing it, as I always do when I make someone, fictional as it can be, suffer. I feel the need to warn you. I have not depicted gory or details (not too many), but I've written emotions, and those are way harder to digest, in my opinion. When I noticed how much I was going to make everyone suffer, I just had to note down this little piece for you. I'm sorry. This was not easy to write for me, I didn't enjoy it. Don't hate me, ok? This was on the canon, anyway, just not... Yeah, you get it.
> 
> Ugh... I'm sorry, I'm rambling. Ok, get a grip. 
> 
> This is my longest chapter till now, so I'm dividing it into three parts. I'll publish the second one next week :) Thanks for everything guys and girls, I hope the last part makes up for the suffering in the first two.

“In a moment, Young Master.” The blonde maid – from Australia, he’d heard them gossip – left with a bow and closed the mahogany door.

Silence settled and the room felt, finally, peaceful. Pity she would have returned soon with his dark hot chocolate. It was a way to send her out for some minutes. Given the length at which they went to not let him out of their radar, she would have taken maybe ten minutes. Scratch that, five. She had probably already informed the kitchen so that, by the time she reached it, the mug would be ready to be taken.

Relaxing, somewhat, in the solace of silence and emptiness, Mukuro leaned back in the armchair and closed his eyes. The sweet void of breathing beings – him not included – soothed his mind, lulling it into the numbness of nothingness. The sound of the creaking – because he made it that way each time they fixed it – would warn him of the maid’s return.

His blood-related father was trying to kill him.

Nothing new there, it had been that way for years. Maybe since his birth, he couldn’t remember a day without a life-endangering situation.

No, actually, the strange thing was the _way_ in which the man was trying to get rid of his blood son.

Usually, Mukuro had to dodge some knives there, a needle here, not eat a soup one day, not drink water the next. Now, though, there were no _direct_ threats. He had not used maids, not yet, neither the Head Butler or the thugs, but he had… how to say it… yes, he had _weakened_ the effort. With direct attempts, Mukuro could work and even train, but he was losing his sleep now.

One night, he had woken up to an unusual smell. Soporific gas. Which, what? He’d already been asleep – the aware sleep he was used to –, what was he trying to accomplish? What could he have gained? Making him sleep without him waking up suddenly? It was a theory, but why? He had thought long about that, and the most plausible hypothesis was that his blood-related father had experimented some kind of new gas on him, a failure by the look of it.

His Famiglia was known for that, after all. Experiments.

The scientific field was _their_ field. Name the best scientists of the whole world, minus the renowned Arcobaleno, they had him contracted. They had several researches ongoing and most of them were revolutionary. Each family member was also destined to be in the business…

But Mukuro did not like that. For specific, important reasons.

Their ways.

The boy was not stupid, neither naïve. He knew, _too well_ , how they, his family – _blood-relatives_ –, tested their researches. He wanted to vomit just knowing he was part of their bloodline. Experiments on human beings. He scoffed. They had been guests at Vogola Nono’s party just months prior. The old Don was notoriously against human experiments. If he ever got a gist of what his Famiglia was doing, they would be doomed. And yet, they had attended the birthday party, they had been welcomed warmly… What a joke.

Mukuro had wanted to just shout his Famiglia’s crimes all the time.

But, as much as the idea thrilled and satisfied him, he couldn’t. Because his father had done a checkmate. He’d threatened him, using his only weakness. He smiled bitterly, he had almost slipped and told that staring bo–

The creak of the door opening made Mukuro open his eyes and focus on the blonde maid. She had that sickening sweet – false – smile. No one in this mansion had the boy in good regards. He guessed his intimidating eyes and coldness, plus his father’s influence, were the causes. She put the white, steaming mug on the table of the little living room. As long as he could remember, he’d always been confined in the East Wing, more precisely, in three rooms. A little bathroom was the only space in which no one entered while he was inside, thankfully. There was a ceramic bathtub, a shower, the toilet and a small ceramic sink encased in wooden furniture. The tiles covering the floor and the lower half of the walls were creamy with white flowers here and there. It was a classic Italian bathroom. Its only door led to his bedroom, a small room with a simple bed, an empty desk, a chair, an almost empty bookcase and a window through which he couldn’t pass through. There were bars inside, hidden by a mosquito net. A cage, but his bed was comfy and the blue bedsheets were warm and silky. It was linked to a small living room, where Mukuro was eyeing his chocolate drink. A black couch, a wooden low table and some chairs on the red carpet that covered the entire floor. No windows, only some red curtains covering the empty walls.

Those were his confines, if he was not required to be present at some events, just to be flaunted as the heir, the genius. He was one, just not in the fields everyone believed him to be. Not the one he wanted to be.

He liked scaring people. That was one of his hobbies. He liked creeping them out, chasing them away from the mansion and push the blame on the last maid/butler that had tried to get rid of him. It was fascinating. No one ever suspected him, maybe because no one expected a _child_ to, for example, steal a briefcase full of cocaine from the guest they were having for the night. Mainly because he’d hidden it under the head butler’s bed. That man had tried to poison him, served him right.

Mukuro took the mug in his hands, relishing in the warmth of the hot drink. He blew on the surface, seeing with fascination as it became darker. It was solidifying. He used the spoon the maid had brought and took the thin layer of chocolate, bringing it to his lips. No funny smell, no funny flavour. Either they had not tried anything this time or it was a rather new poison. He would not be surprised if they had thought about using new developed things on his body. After all, why not? They were already trying to get rid of him, better use him until he lasted.

He blew some more and took a sip. Deliciously dark. Despite his like for this, he preferred sweets. For instance, he couldn’t bear with bitter coffee or milk, he wanted them sweet. Chocolate was different.

Mukuro blinked.

Damn.

They had drugged it.

His vision swam, blurred. Darkness, a blink, the maid was nearer. He tried to glare. Hitting the floor was the last thing he registered as the world tilted.

 

A throbbing pain on the left side of his head made Mukuro stir. He opened his eyes, only to be greeted by darkness. He blinked repeatedly, massaging the bump and trying to pat around. His head hurt, but he had to understand where he was.

He’d been drugged, he remembered in his fuzzy mind. That damn maid was going to get his rage, as soon as he got out of this. She was surely enjoying the money his father had paid her as a reward for getting rid of his unruly son. Bloody bastard.

With a deep breath, he cleared his mind. He could feel a pavement, smooth. He was lying on some floor, so he sat up slowly to not trigger dizziness. He waited for his eyes to adjust until he could make out the nearest thing.

Bars.

He was in a cage. A small cage. Big enough to let him sit, not stand. It was cubical, with big chains and a lock to keep its door closed. He resisted the urge to scoff, then damned himself. He had not learned how to pick locks. He was trapped. Mukuro wasn’t surprised.

Of course, everything was clearer. His father had stopped trying to kill him because he had decided to use him as an experiment. He looked around, but the darkness was too thick to distinguish farther. There were pained breaths all around, a whine from his right and some grunts at his left. He was not alone in the facility.

Now… How to get out of this.

He knew the location of each building his Famiglia used to store experiments. The problem was to get out of his cage, then out of the room and past the supposedly heavy security. Not easy. He could be sneaky, even with his hurting head – he was rather sure he’d hit the floor, but was it the drug still acting in his system? –, but these men his father hired were trained. With their business and the constant danger of being found out by other, stronger Famiglie, they had to be the best of the best. Well, they could not afford the Sun Arcobaleno, but they tried for just below the World’s Best.

With nothing to work with but the lock he could barely see, Mukuro leaned back on the bars, feeling the wall just behind them, and settled to wait. For literally anything. He was betting on some kind of scientist to come collect someone for their experiments.

He readied his mind for pain.

His body had to manage.

Whatever they were going to do to him, he would keep his eyes open and observe everything he could. There had to be a way out. He had to escape. Maybe burn the place down as a little reminder of how vengeful he could get. And then, off to take care of his ‘weakness’. Thinking about it, everyone always seemed edgy around him when he wore his smile. He had to use every weapon he had at disposal.

Mukuro had no idea what was expecting him.

 

They came after a long time. From his experience in staying in a room without daylight for hours, maybe half a day after he’d woken up.

The sound of a key turned swiftly to unlock a door gave him enough time to close his eyes, wary of sudden light hitting his orbs. He made sure to have his smile on and blinked repeatedly to adjust his sight, again. Footsteps flowed in the room. He could see now.

This thing resembled a storage room.

There were two dozen cages lined against the longer, opposite walls. There was a little alley left free for people to pass through. Men and women in white cloaks were there, with clipboards in their hand and pens writing quickly on papers. They were conversing with each other, but in different languages that Mukuro had not learnt.

He looked at the nearby cages. At his left, it was empty, but there was blood on the wall behind it and on the bottom. He narrowed his eyes at the blonde lock of hair caught in the door of the cage. There was dried blood on it and… He moved his gaze to the right. There was a child, maybe younger than himself, curled up. He was shieldin– he was dead. There was no movement, no fast breaths that testified the fear that caused that position.

One of the scientist opened the cage and whistled. A man in black came in, took the body from the collar of the ragged shirt and brought him out. Mukuro didn’t let his smile fall, but he hoped that these empty cages could be so for a long time. Maybe, not seeing all of this would have been better.

Yet again, these things shouldn’t even _exist_. Would he really live better not knowing the truths this worls hid behind birthday parties and job meetings? Better safe than sorry.

He swallowed thickly and waited. The other cages were too far and the light coming through the door too dim to let him analyse the other occupants. There were, however, different breaths, from haggard to scared, and some wails.

Mukuro waited.

The scientists went on for some minutes, maybe twenty, then the same one from before whistled and three men in black came. Some of the white-clad men took keys and opened some cages. His, too. He didn’t resist when the bigger, stronger man took him from the arm, probably bruising it. They dragged him out of the room.

There was a corridor. White walls, white tiled floor, no windows, few doors. Identical to the one of the storage. More stacks of guinea pigs, he hoped not.

He didn’t ask questions. His mind was fully focused on mapping the long aisle, each turn and door. There were no more people aside the three kids, him included, dragged by the three men and the scientists, that were talking in hushed tones just behind them.

The hallway became larger with each step – like his carefully controlled dread – and they entered in a waiting room of sort… There were chairs, and glasses on the… No, it was not a waiting room.

It was a spectators’ room.

In front of the neatly disposed chairs was a glassed wall. He could see five rooms, similar to each other. Tables with stacks of papers near the walls, whiteboards written all over… beds in the centre, with leather straps fit for kids’ sizes. The walls were not white anymore, but grey, as if dirty. There was no red stain. The lights were dim there, too, but not in the… experimenting rooms. They were bright to let the show be seen clearly.

The boys in front of him started making resistance. A blonde and a dark-haired one. He couldn’t see them well, so Mukuro focused on his task. Observing as much as he could.

They were taken to a door on the right side and he noted that there was another at the left. Probably the way the spectators came in from. There was a possibility it led out of the building, but, judging from the fact he had still to see a single window, they were probably underground, which meant it would be harder to escape.

 _Well-played, father._ A lot of facilities were like that, so he had no leads as to where he was.

Mukuro checked his smile was in place and prepared himself. They were about to experiment on him. What did he expect? Pain, wounds, tiredness, violence, needles, poison, drugs. Something else? He didn’t know. Probably.

They walked through the hidden aisle and the three men waited in front of three doors. Judging from the planimetry he’d just noted in his mind, they led to the showcased rooms. Six scientists came and opened the doors. Mukuro lost sight of the other kids. But he couldn’t shrug off the pure fear displayed on their faces.

He resisted the urge to swallow and looked forward. As much as he wanted to be anywhere else – literally –, he was there, _right there_ , about to be experimented on. The things his family did on others, about to be done on him… _They_ deserved even worse.

Mukuro was pushed through the doorstep. He didn’t resist. A short scientist with grey hair and a pair of white-rimmed glasses frequently slipping from his nose nodded to the man in black. This one took him up and made him lay down on the bed. He swiftly – how many times and to how many had he already… how _many_. – tied the leathers straps around his wrists and ankles. Either they thought he would escape or it was to stop him from moving too much because of… because of something else. Fear, pain, hate… name it.

The scientist got busy with whatever he had on the table – he couldn’t see from his position – and the other man left, door closing behind him. The click of a key fell on the silence with finality. Mukuro closed his eyes for a brief moment. When he opened them again, he swore to himself: he would get out of this. And, if not unscarred, on his body or in his mind, at least he would do that while walking. Alive. Free. Breathing.

He squashed down the oppressing feeling pervading his chest and breathed regularly.

“Now, now…”

He swallowed despite his control. His smile was still on place, he wanted to believe it was the same as always.

“Let’s see if I can wipe that smile off of your face, brat.”

The man had a syringe in his hand, ready to be used. A spit of something oddly violet came out. Mukuro decided he wanted to seem brave and uncaring about everything.

“Now, now…” He spat back. “Let’s see you try, lowlife.”

The smirk on the other’s lips dropped, as did a cloth in his mouth and the needle, right in his left arm. He watched with concealed but rising distress the liquid being pushed in his body.

He didn’t have time to try to feel it.

The pain came immediately.

He gasped, teeth clenched around the cloth. He gripped the bed under his palms, eyes looking up but without sight. He could only see white.

His skin burned. Every little corner on his body felt like it was on fire. Like a thousand needles were pierced all over, again and again and again but without _blood_.

His bones ached as if broken. Each of them. He could even feel the little ones in his hands as he let go of the thin bedsheet. He gasped, or tried to, and closed tightly his eyes.

His blood was boiling because of that strange liquid, making him hot and feel like he was feverish. Dizzy. He panted through his nose, trying to control the pain and failing miserably.

His head hurt, a throbbing pulse that made his whole body wince without pause. He could barely register the movements, the twitches of his aching muscles.

He couldn’t shout, but he would have not. No sound came through his throat.

Then, suddenly, _thankfully_ … soothing darkness.

 

Mukuro lost count of days after the fourth one. Between feeling more exhausted as minutes passed by, the lingering pain that never left him and trying to piece together his sanity every time he could, he understood how weak he was. Weak, weak, completely useless.

As Glasses, the scientist, never failed to remind him.

The day went like this, though the time was a foreign notion.

Gorillas came. They took two to five children, Mukuro always figured in the supposed list. Endless experiments that left him unconscious most of the times.. Brought back to the storage room. Fed; even via IV, they had to survive. Especially him, he had the suspicion.

For the sake of _progress_.

What progress? In interrogation? Torture? Resilience? Addiction? At. What. Cost.

His pain, his blood, his mind, his body, his sanity… They were of no value against money. Funny.

The hate increased day by day, after every experiment, after every new drug they put in his system, after every damn needle pushed through his skin.

He was full of wounds, from bruises, on his wrists and ankles, to cuts, on his stomach and face, to holes, because of the needles. When Glasses had his ways with him, he could be drugged, then wounded to see his endurance/feeling after the excruciating pain. Or he could be cut and then drugged, to see the effectiveness of some curative liquid – it was never curative. Or Glasses could use a ice cube to freeze randomly one of his limbs, to then proceed cutting, pulling, gripping, anesthetize said limb. He had pondered cutting it whole, once, but Gorilla had entered the room to stop him, to remember him how ‘valuable’ Mukuro was as a thing to experiment on. Glasses had tch-ed with barely concealed irritation.

The boy wasn’t interested in studying them on a personality level, but he needed to see their boiling point, so the man was probably being more sadistic on him than on the others. He knew from how many times Gorilla came in to stop the experimenting session, which…

Mukuro wasn’t hopeful, but maybe he had some kind of… weapon? Value speaking. But, then… Why waste his body in this kind of stupid – a fearful voice in his mind supplied the word ‘painful’, but he ignored it as he’d been doing a lot later – experiments if he was so ‘valuable’? Certainly his father had some hidden agenda for him, considering how much trouble he’d endured to have him in his putrid clutches. And how much he paid for such a feat to be successful.

Surely, though, those were the daily experiments everyone endured.

There was… a sort of comfortable camaraderie in the storage room. True, the occasional smell that disappeared rather soon – more like they got used to it – made them glare at each other, though they hadn’t really the need to get the big one out, thanks to the IV, but… How could he say this… The children were always tense when the men came, instead there was a comfortable, almost hugging silence when they were far. Not in the room.

It was not something tangible, neither Mukuro accepted it willingly because it was a weakness in his book, but it was there and offered a strange kind of comfort, of understanding. He still had problems dealing with it, because the smile he hardly kept on wavered those times, and two brats even kept trying to talk to him. With sore voices, dead eyes and tired features, but they tried. Every time they could. The same ones from his ‘first day’.

An ominous chuckle made him refocus on the present. He was too tired to want to open his eyes, but he did, and made sure to have his smile. With relieved satisfaction, it creeped the Gorillas and the scientists just fine. A reason good enough for him to keep enduring and let them see how he was stronger.

Stronger than these low lives.

Stronger than his father always thought him to be.

Stronger than their pathetic tries at bending him.

Stronger than their strongest drug.

He had to be. And he had to focus.

“Finally we can begin with the serious stuff.”

That falsely sweet voice made a shiver run down his spine, uncomfortable and dreadful. So, he was right. There was another reason why they wanted him, specifically. There was something _more_.

“You know, there’s this new sequence of serums we’ve recently developed.”

Glasses had a bigger than usual syringe in his hands. The substance was red, blood red. Was it blood…?

Another low chuckle. “Let’s ‘try’ it, okay?”

As if he had a damn choice. The needle was in his arm in a heartbeat. He closed his eyes, waiting for whatever was coming with a clear and ready mind. He waited, feeling the thing swarming in his veins… and waited. And a bit more. Then he suppressed a frown. There wasn’t even the groan from Glasses when something didn’t give Mukuro pain – very rare occurrence, but much appreciated.

With anxiousness, he opened his eyes. And had to blink. Thrice.

He was not in the experimenting room.

All around him was darkness, an endless nothing. He warily sat up, looking down. His skin was still wounded and bruised, but the bed was not there. Neither the leather straps, which he was thankful for.

Mukuro stood, looking around. There was no sound, only the taps of his feet on… the floor was an expanse of black liquid, water maybe, he couldn’t tell in the darkness. It sure felt calming, with no strange smell, no scientists, no suffering children, no Gorillas, no experiments… But where was he?

A hum reached his ears. He whipped his head behind him, there was nothing. Another hum, he turned again– Where had that door appeared from?

It was red, blood red, like the liquid he had just been injected. Two big bat wings of the same colour were on its upper corners. It towered over him by how much it was taller and wider. On it was a craved sign, maybe a symbol. It was a square with two signs like mirrored commas, but differently curved, on the inside, almost closing the two upper corners of the square. He didn’t know what to think of it. He’d never seen a symbol like that before.

Mukuro stilled. He had a feeling he wouldn’t like what was behind it. Not counting how there was nothing, because he could walk around it, but… He also thought he had to open it to go out of whatever this was. He had no idea of the where, what and how. Was that drug the culprit? What had it done? What was it doing? Was this all an… illusion?

With reasonable wariness, the boy pushed the door. It immediately opened on its own. Mukuro poked his head through, seeing the same darkness, but thicker. He could hear low, unintelligible whispers carried in the air. With a deep breath, he passed through… And the darkness lifted as the door closed.

What he saw, he was sure he could never forget.

Heat was the first thing he registered. Scorching heat lapping at his skin, along with a heavy feeling of panic that settled on his shoulders and stomach. His eyes darted from one side to the other and he noticed the door had completely disappeared. The entire floor that had been covered in murky water was now like an apocalyptic vision of Earth almost completely covered and eaten by fire. A dark, fiery red of flames licking everything with glee. The usual sound of burning resembled a chuckle.

There had been a road in front of him, once. Now, chunks of black, hot asphalt could be seen among the masses of… of… _beings_.

There were human-like things lurking around without purpose. They were naked, but also sex-less. There were no males or females, only those things, hunched forward, without eyes, without noses or ears. They were roaming aimlessly as if without a soul. Their skin was almost yellow and seemed tough. Their limbs were abnormally long and thin. They had no hair, skin completely bare but dirty and sweaty. He could smell it with ashes and blood.

Despite his desire to think otherwise, he was scared of them.

He wanted to–

A sudden, loud noise made him turn to the left. His eyes widened.

There had once been a mini-market. It was barely standing on two walls, the other two’s bricks were completely visible, half fallen on the fuming asphalt. He could see the floor of the upper level, the metal bars keeping it together almost melted, bent at strange angles. What had once been creamy was then crisped and burnt on the walls. The expositors were knocked over, some were on fire and shopping carts made the picture all the more abandoned and apocalyptic.

One of those beings was on the ground floor of the ruined building. It was throwing up something black through its mouth. He hadn’t seen that on the others, it was wide, big, from what he could consider one end of the jaw to the other. There were no teeth. The smell of putrefaction drifted to his nose, that he promptly closed with two fingers. He could recognize it. It was the same of the boys in the storage room, when they died and no one noticed because they were not needed as experiments, for days.

The other beings slowly turned to the puking one. They started walking to it. And then, Mukuro saw the mouths, saw the two sets of pointy teeth.

They leaned down… and sank those teeth in the flesh. Black blood spilled from several bites. The beings got splashed and thrived in it. He could feel them. Mukuro took a step back without noticing.

Everything stopped. One of those things had his teeth in the prey’s shoulder, he could see the black blood bubbling, the wounds, where the teeth tore the skin, made the black flesh meet the heavy air. They turned to him. His breath stopped. His heart raced in his ribcage, almost wanting to escape.

As he did.

The beings moved, slowly, but Mukuro was one step away from fleeing.

His eyes darted from one point to the other, searching. There had to be a damn way out, a door, _something_!

Then he saw it. A pair of red bat wings without a body flapping over him soundlessly, as if it was a mere illusion. He didn’t doubt its existence as much as he doubted his sanity and this whole place.

He started running. Without looking back at the mass of beings that were following him – he could _hear_ their pants and gurgling. Their hunger. He wanted to get out of this. This was tenfold worse than being experimented on.

This was scaring him like nothing else ever had. It was pure adrenaline and anxiety that made his aching limbs move. Over the high chunks of asphalt. Past the remnants of another by then black being that smelled of corpse. Down the collapsed bridge. And again over a rusty shopping cart and left of an abandoned, ruined camper. He followed the bat wings with tears prickling his eyes, swallowing them back with the pants and the desire to let out his pure terror through a relieving scream.

Other beings joined the parade behind him as Mukuro ran and ran and ran. He didn’t stop, not even when a hand with long, clawed fingers tore apart the remnants of his bloody shirt over his shoulder. A tear escaped the corner of his eye and was soon forgotten, blown away by the wind of his speed run.

The wings made a turn to the right. The boy had trouble following it, but he pushed forward, past the rusty guardrail and over the metal fence, ignoring the pain when he landed on the fallen barbed wire. The horde behind him didn’t allow him any leeway. It was escaping or being eaten.

Mukuro looked up and dread mixed up with hope filled his mind and stomach.

He could see the door. The blood red door. The bat wings split and fused with its upper corners.

But he could also see a line of those _things_ blocking his way to it.

He was in a dry, low canyon. Not low enough for him to jump over the concrete and evade them. He was trapped, behind him was the horde.

He didn’t stop.

He couldn’t stop.

Mukuro gritted his teeth and ran faster. He barely noticed his right eye felt odd.

The boy was almost a breath away from them when he jumped high over them. He kicked one’s head, sending it on the dirt, directly on a heap of dark red flames. He used the momentum to evade a grabby hand. Instead, he gripped its wrist and pulled, making two more headbutt each other.

Without asking the world what the _hell_ was happening, he stepped on one’s head and jumped forward. He barely touched the door–

He opened his eyes.

Darkness greeted him.

Mukuro blinked, then groaned and sat up. His head hurt, his right eye hurt, his every limb hurt, as if… He stopped the panic rising in his chest and adjusted to the familiar darkness. He was back in the storage room. He hastily checked his body. His muscles were sore, as if he had really run that incredible marathon. He was sweaty. There was a new needle’s hole on his arm and that area felt numb, as did his body, frankly. He felt more tired than ever, but he had a feeling it was also because of some sedative. Warily, he checked his shoulder.

He wanted to curse.

Three claw-like wounds were on his skin, rips on the already ruined shirt he had on since being brought there.

It… It had been real? That…

No. He had to stop trembling.

Mukuro took deep, silent breaths and closed his eyes.

Whatever that had been, _wherever_ that had been, it was in the past. He had… overcome it.

“You okay…?”

“Right, pyon…”

Mukuro huffed, finally calm. The terror in his stomach was still there, but he just had to sleep it off.

“I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry... See ya next week...


	11. 10 – Mukuro - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again :3

Only few hours passed, Mukuro was brought again in the experimenting room, tied at the bed and at the mercy of Glasses. Not even a day’s rest, he could tell. Though, Glasses was acting strange. And not because of his usual smile. No… He seemed… Spooked.

He kept murmuring something under his breath, stealing glances at him but not saying anything. Half-an-hour has passed and the scientist has still to do something, inject him some strange liquid or throw some free insults. Not that being called maggot was going to work, Glasses had no creativity.

Mukuro couldn’t do more than wait, so he settled to think about that strange experience in what he thought resembled quite well hell with a rather fresh mind. He couldn’t hope for it to be fresher anytime soon. He found his sarcasm was back, so it may be a moment better than any other to ponder about it.

A door of the same colour of a supposed drug. Bat wings that ‘helped’ him through the hellhole. Sca–strange beings that ate the weaker ones, that had wanted to eat him the moment they had noticed his presence. And he had been thrown back once he touched the other ‘side’ of the door. The exit, he mused. It resembled some kind of test… But what about the strange ache in his right eye? The odd feeling when dealing with the barricade between him and his ‘goal’? Those _moves_? He was trained, yes, but he had never had that agility. He’d never jumped that high, neither that fast… Thinking about it, he’d never run that fast, but maybe it was the adrenaline’s fault… Or it had all been a nightmare.

…

His mind scared him.

Like, brain, what were those _things_? He was sure he’d never imagined them. Though, they were good material for a nightmare, he admitted.

“Ok, let’s try this.”

Mukuro glanced at the syringe. Dark green. He seriously hoped this brought him pain and not another journey who knew where. Maybe that blood red one was an hallucinating drug. Hoping never killed anyone… probably.

The needle sank in his skin, on his thigh… And he was back in the darkness. _It can’t be happening again…_

Where was that _damn door_. He looked around, standing up. Something ghostly brushed his cheeks, he turned, then back and… There it was. But different.

He swallowed, though he found it hard. The door was dark green, as big as the other one. It was carved all over with beasts. A vicious tiger was at the lower left, circled but untouched by a long, big snake leaking poison from his fangs. Its head reached the upper border, where an eagle was depicted flying over an elephant. At its feet, under the lifted proboscis, a horde of big ants were feasting upon a fighting but losing monkey. At the centre, a big tree hosted on its lonely, wide branch a panther that surveyed everything with boredom. Mukuro swallowed while fighting the urge to flee. If this was anyway similar to some hours prior, then he had to open that door, enter and then exit whatever hellhole he was thrown into. There was a symbol on the lower corner of the door, three parallel lines, the middle one shorter and centred compared to the other two, carved horizontally. He was sure it meant something, but he was also positive that he should not talk about it. With no one. Especially Glasses.

He stayed there, rooted to the spot in front of the door, waiting for nothing, moving his weight from one foot to the other. Mukuro didn’t like considering himself as weak, even less scared, but he was and he was just losing time against the prospective of terror. If the previous door was anything to go by, he was merely preparing himself for the fright and the probable run. Maybe this was different – there was a pattern here, he just knew –, but he was not taking any risk.

With a final sigh, the boy rotated his shoulders, then did some warm ups. He waited some more.

Mukuro took a long breath. He pushed lightly the door. The hope it didn’t open on his own with that little strength got crashed into shards as it opened on its own, like the other one. No way out if not by going in.

 _Damn it all_.

With a gulp – he would deny this to the end of times and again… though, no one knew about this, so, duh –, he took a step inside.

The door closed and disappeared. The darkness lifted completely, letting him gape at the magnificent jungle spreading until the eye could see and over that line. The sky was covered by majestic crowns of leaves, little sunlight passing through and letting him observe the vast expanse. Thick light brown, near green trunks made that hard, but he managed. Chirps of birds filled the air, nearly relaxing his nerves.

He almost forgot how he’d come there as he faced the possibility of being free, out of those walls and away from scientists’ dirty clutches…

A low growl made him flinch, and remember how he’d come there.

He didn’t move, Mukuro looked at his left, where he’d heard it come from. There was no low vegetation, only big, high, thick roots that covered partly the humid terrain. He saw the beast, hiding behind one of them, crouched down, tail nervously curling in the air in anticipation.

He’s just been spotted by an hungry, bigger than normal tiger.

… Did tigers live in jungles?

Mukuro mentally shook his head and decided that he had to act, rather than think about that, or he would have been dead meat. Literally. The beings from before had grazed him, so the chance that he could die here was real.

But _how_ does one escape from a _tiger_? Because he had no idea.

A drop of sweat trailed from his temple down his cheek and jaw. It was hot, and he was hyperventilating. The only thing he could do that came to mind was to escape up one tree that the beast could not climb.

He had no time to think it through.

The tiger – big, beautiful, deadly – jumped forward gracefully. Mukuro almost screamed, but didn’t stay immobile. He skipped to the side, evading a claw and gripping a trunk as if there was no floor under his feet. He gritted his teeth and quickly climbed the tree, surprising even himself when he rapidly reached a high branch… His right eye felt odd again. The tiger tried jumping up, but it was way too high for the beast and no other tree offered a better option. It growled loudly in anger. The boy tried to calm his beating heart and fast breath.

A movement to his left made him freeze, cold sweat drenching his useless clothes. There was a snake on a nearby branch, hissing and looking at him just like the tiger had moments before. Its body was long – too long, his busy mind supplied uselessly –, brown with black and dark green patches. Its eyes were red, gleaming. The head, completely black, poked through the crown of leaves and observed him with narrowed eyes. Between the tiger down and the snake up, Mukuro had no way of surviving. He was no monkey.

He saw the slithering body prepare to jump, curling on itself like a sort of spring.

That was it. He was going to die being eaten by a snake or by a tiger, he could choose. His body putrefying in acidic liquids in their stomach, as a whole or in pieces. Traveling around different zones of the jungle… Forgotten, disappearing, unable to go back, unable to make them all pay, unable to sa–No.

 _Hell_ , no.

Mukuro glared venomously at the snake. “You won’t eat me.”

He ignored how his left eye right odd once again, as if _shifting_. The snake seemed to flinch and retreat. Pushed by something the boy didn’t understand, he stood on the branch and faced the beast.

“You will help me now.” He took a step forward, panicking inside. “Where is the exit?”

Before he could smash his head against the trunk behind him at how crazy he sounded, the snake’s head ducked down and turned to its right. Mukuro didn’t move his gaze, he relaxed his hands, that had been tight fists for so long his knuckles were white and blood was dripping from his palms, and swallowed.

“Take me there.”

Adrenaline flowed through his veins, mixing with growing panic, when the snake did as told. The boy had a moment of insecurity when the beast slithered on his branch, uncaring of the still growling tiger right beneath them. The snake, an anaconda maybe, waited without a fuss. Which pushed Mukuro to touch the scales on his skin lightly. Still no funny moves.

He guessed he had little choice, then. It was either stay there forever or try this out. He threw a leg over the circular body and hugged it with both arms, making sure he had a tight grip on it. The scales were cold to the touch, sleek and surprisingly clean.

“Go to the exit door.”

He didn’t know why, but the beast nodded – understanding _again_ his speech – before taking off to their left. It slithered from one tree to the other swiftly, evading other animals they passed by. Dark brown monkeys, more snakes but smaller, a big panther – its fur was majestic, like its behaviour –  that overlooked their passing boringly, a golden eagle that was eyeing a prey, a mountain of big ants that was trying to reach for a corpse in the middle of a little pond. The anaconda didn’t stop, not even when a graceful, silent jaguar spotted them and tried to eat Mukuro. It simply dodged the attack, letting the feline fall down, and then slithered away.

It was kind of awesome.

Why was the snake doing as he’d told it to?

Half-an-hour of a rather comfortable journey later, through leaves and evading attacks, the boy finally spotted the door. The snake stopped in front of it and Mukuro jumped off its body, turning to him. The words were out of his mouth before he could bite his tongue.

“Thank you.”

The beast nodded his black head, eyes sparkling for a second, then disappeared. Mukuro didn’t waste time in opening the door.

He was greeted again by darkness. His little cubicle cell, then.

“Oh, you’re up, pyon…” He had a hoarse voice – too much screaming.

“You were out for a long time…” A cough.

Mukuro just hummed, deciding that he needed to rest and ignoring the touch of worry in their voices. Not mentally, but he tried. He had a feeling this was only the beginning. Of something he didn’t understand…

But… what for?

 

This time, the liquid was black. His left eyebrow twitched, but his smile, that was lately making Glasses wary, resisted. Mukuro could only wait for the ‘drug’ to be injected in his system. Was he going to change skin colour? With that many, it might very well be. He preferred purple, normally, but _purple skin_? No, thank you. He liked being ‘normal’.

“Third injection of the new serum.” The scientist sing-sang, but Mukuro heard the shade of delusion.

He knew they were having rather poor results, what with everything happening in his mind – he had that sinking suspicion. They ought to feel useless, Glasses had seemed to be having great expectations. Mukuro didn’t pity him in the slightest.

_Take that. I have to endure hell, you get to be scolded by my father._

A little taste of the real revenge he was agonizing for. And putting on hold. It was not like he had any chances in escaping that horde on Gorillas. There were too much and too well-trained. He had to wait for an opening, but his hopes were diminishing as time flew by.

Mukuro was on the ‘other side’ before the pain of the needle alerted his unfocused mind. Well, not that needles were causing him much pain, he was developing an interesting and useful resistance.

The usual darkness welcomed him. Without wasting time for something ghostly brushing his cheeks, he turned twice. This door was as big as the previous two. But it… it felt much more ominous.

The same black of the liquid was separated from the all-encompassing darkness by a halo of bright red. There was something trailing down the surface slowly, making him notice the carvings. He approached it to see better. There was a single horizontal line on the centre, a symbol like the other two. He wondered if it was some kind of language… Were those _demons_? The smell of blood hit his nose and he flinched backwards.

The carvings were bat-winged creatures with differently styled horns and canines. They were tall, skinny, engulfed by flames. Each had a one-of-a-kind trident loosely held in one hand. They were all looking at him. Like those paintings that seemed to follow you even in the farthest corner of the exhibition room.

Ominous _and_ foretelling.

Mukuro’s eyes widened when the liquid on the door trailed down in front of him. The smell became stronger and almost made him puke his bile, being his stomach empty. It was blood. Real blood, he could tell the difference.

He suddenly didn’t want to open the door.

He wanted to go back. Even if it meant returning to his so-called father or to Glasses’ clutches and being experimented on with no escape way.

Before he could turn around and try to flee, a push between his shoulder blades made him instinctively put his hands up to stop the fall… Except he ended up opening the door. Mukuro looked behind him and cursed at the _darkness_ , not feeling childish about it. Something in there was playing with him.

Somehow, he felt he could no longer flee. His dread increased. Mukuro stubbornly took a step back. He kicked an invisible barrier. He regretted not having a colourful vocabulary of curses. He would _take care_ of this weakness, too. If he had to deal with the aftermath of erasing his Famiglia from Earth, he needed to do a lot of things first. Especially if he had to protect others.

With a resolute breath, the boy entered. And froze.

The door disappeared behind him after closing, he _sensed_ it. The darkness didn’t lift, but four figures appeared in front of him. Four demons. His heartbeat pulsed through his body, making his ears ring. They were surrounded by the same red halo of the door.

They were two couples of twins. The ones in the middle were tall, muscular, male, with matching, big blue tridents. They had red skin, completely naked and with stoic expressions.  Their eyes were mismatched, but he couldn’t see the exact colours. Same for the other two. They were shorter, female, grinning manically, with big black pitchforks. Their skin was purple. All their horns started from their temples, curled back and pointed up. They were craved with twirls and lines. Their hair were black, short and messy.

Mukuro felt a flinch but his body didn’t move when the taller twins stepped forward. He swallowed thickly. Four voices teased his mind.

_You are here to be judged._

Judged…? That’s what he’d gone through with the other doors, too?

_This is the First Realm, the Realm of Hell, the Naraka Path._

First? But this was not… Wait, one horizontal line, the previous door had three, so it was… the Third Realm? And the one with the strange beings?

_We will test you, resist for us, will ya?_

R-resist?

_And freedom shall be granted, along wi–_

Mukuro didn’t ask to repeat, nor did he answer. He didn’t need to. The four demons lifted their weapons.

A torture he couldn’t ever have imagined in his angriest dream began.

 

Opening his eyes made the boy groan loudly. Darkness was the last thing he wanted to see. His pants filled the stuffy storage room as he forced his heartbeat, terror, lingering pain and breath to _calm the fuck down_.

“Y-you… okay…?”

“You were… What happened, pyon?”

Mukuro tested his sore body, stretching and trying to push down his thoughts, his experience, his memories. His new knowledge was handy, though. Such sweet, sweet knowledge…

“I saw Hell.”

 

New children arrived some hours later, when his body had just finally settled down. It was not the first time since coming – being brought – there, but he lifted his head from the floor and observed them. 4, 7, 3, 10, 8… Not older than 13, that seemed to be the unspoken rule. One ended up in the cage near his own, but he didn’t get to watch the motion with pure boredom.

They took him again. Mukuro was starting to feel _tired_.

He heard muffled words when they closed the door, which was unusual. One of the new entries was too relaxed, he would learn soon. Wait 5 minutes after the footsteps’ sounds disappeared before breathing too loudly. A golden rule.

Glasses ‘greeted’ him with a spilling, grey-filled syringe. He was promptly tied at the bed and the darkness soon welcomed him… like an old friend. Mukuro let out a low chuckle. A single tear escaped his right eye. He gritted his teeth and looked up. The door, like the ‘drug’, was grey. No cravings, no strange things aside from two horizontal lines, the lower one longer than the upper one. It was some kind of language, probably numbers, he was even surer.

He pushed the door open and entered without preambles. What could be worse than that hell.

The air filling his lungs dissipated. It was like… The atmosphere was heavy, saturated, hardly breathing material. There was a smell of… Of ash, of light rain on dirt, of incense and wood. The darkness was still there, but white, ghostly figures floated some inches from what he supposed was the floor. Looking better, the… _ghosts_ left a trail on it, as if touching water, like swans or ducks.

They were very far from the beauty of those, though.

See-through, wearing white, ragged clothes that were about to fall off. Putrefied skin. Bones clearly visible. Those ghosts had the aspect of the corpses they had left behind. Some had holes as big as a bullet, one had a crater in his stomach, some had claw-like marks on the face, some had no head or missed a limb. Or two. Wherever he looked, there was no body left sane. Everyone there had died by assassination. He didn’t doubt it.

Mukuro took a step forward. They turned to him as one.

He was immediately left breathless. His mind was a mess of memories he couldn’t and could understand at the same time.

An assassin too strong to be left alive. A prostitute that had heard too many secrets. A child that had sold drugs in the wrong district. A man that had tried to protect his wife from a past lover. A woman that wanted to be out of it all. A grandfather that died protecting his grandchildren.

And so many more his head felt like splitting open like a watermelon.

He noticed he was on the floor, silently crying, when the images flooding his mind finally, _finally_ stopped. It felt like hours had passed. Grief, pain, sadness, hopelessness, weakness, uselessness… He didn’t acknowledge the tears flowing down his cheeks. Mukuro couldn’t. He took a shaky breath, standing up and trying to push down this door, too.

The ghosts were all around him, showing emotions he didn’t want. There was no pity, at least, and he could understand why. These people… All of them had one thing in common.

They all died because of Mafia.

Children born from adultery abandoned in an alley at a tender age, left to die out of starvation or cold. Men killed on spot during a mission or to get rid of them, not needed anymore. Women used, abused, tortured and dumped in concrete pillars still alive or thrown in the sea with concrete shoes.

At the same time, he felt like drowning, starving and being shot. It was suffocating.

Something cold touched his shoulders. He looked up to see the ghosts taking him towards the door. A woman in her twenties and an old man were carrying him softly with rage and sadness on their faces. He was pushed against the door before he could ask them what the hell was happening to him.

Mukuro opened his eyes, they adjusted immediately to the storage room’s darkness. He heaved a tired, soundless sigh. Someone was playing with him at some sick game. He had never felt this exhausted, not even after the many painful experiments Glasses had put him through at first.

“Are you ok?”

With a blink, Mukuro noticed how this was a new voice. It was light, maybe with a bit of a strange accent, but it was… It was _warm_. It washed away the sense of dread and the tension in his muscles like a waterfall. He felt his muscles relax and turned to the source.

The boy in the cage next to his own was looking at him with worried but studying eyes. He registered brown, foreign, relaxed stance… Where had he seen this boy before?

“How are you feeling?”

Mukuro swallowed thickly, trying to wet his dry throat. “I’ve been better.” He answered, his voice was hoarse. “You’re new.”

The other shrugged. “They took me from my home, when my family wasn’t there… For how long have you been here?”

He observed him better, noticing how, despite being relaxed, the boy had slight twitches of the fingers and was stealing glances at the door frequently. “I’ve lost count.” Maybe he knew what awaited him.

“That’s…”

“I know.” He said when the other couldn’t continue, and he found strange how he wanted to comfort him. “But you get used to it.”

“No.” His voice was suddenly colder. “No, it shouldn’t be that way.” His eyes flashed making Mukuro freeze. “This is inhuman.”

And he believed it. He knew–he’d already known it was that way, but never had he been so _sure_ … So ready to kill them all.

“–o okay?”

Mukuro swallowed, shrugging off the hand – _warm_ – that had touched his shoulder. “Yes.” This was… “I am.” Dangerous.

 

The liquid had been white, the door was ruined, old, with scratches all over its surface. The symbol this time was more elaborate, like the one he saw on the first door. Three horizontal lines, upper and lower ones longer than the middle, were crossed by another oblique one from the middle of the upper line to the beginning of the lower one. Another shorter line linked the end of the middle one with the end of the lower one. It reminded him of some tattoos he saw on Mafiosi, he remembered them talking about oriental language or something. Splinters were sticking everywhere, so he carefully avoided them while pushing it open. He only wanted to get done with this. Glasses had muttered something about this being the second-last. He’d seemed hasty and desperate… served him right.

He entered and the door disappeared while closing behind him. The darkness didn’t lift. Mukuro looked around and found nothing. What now…? What was this about? He started walking forward. Maybe something would materialize out of nowhere. Nothing did.

Tired, he sat down and swallowed. What was he supposed to do?

“… useless…”

He flinched.

“… useless…”

This couldn’t be–

“… what a useless child…”

He felt his fingers dig deep in his palms.

“… useless son…”

Mukuro turned to his right, recognizing that figure. How could he not? A ridiculous cape on his shoulders, a neat dark brown suit, a red tie, dark violet short hair…

“Father.”

“… useless son…”

Mukuro snorted. “That’s no news.”

“… I have no use for you…”

“You’re getting repetitive.” He answered through gritted teeth.

“… you and your sister are hindrances…”

He froze.

“… I should have simply killed you both…”

“Don’t you dare–“

“Useless.”

He bit his tongue, never breaking gazes. “Shut up.” He spat.

“Since birth…” The man took some steps towards the boy. “You’ve showed to be unfit of being part of my Famiglia.”

“That’s all you care about, _Famiglia_.” He felt his stomach churn and his insides ablaze. “Family comes first.”

The man tilted his head. “That’s your foolish mother’s influence, isn’t it?”

“SHUT UP!!! Don’t talk lightly about her!!”

“I should have killed her sooner.” Mukuro’s eyes widened. “She was unnecessary, a weakness.”

Of course… Of course. He should have known. He’d been _so_ _stupid_.

“You will follow her fate, son.”

No. No. No, his father would.

“And you sister will be next, after being experimented on just like you.”

Mukuro looked up. His smile long forgotten, his cool long gone, his braveness long lost. But he stood on his shaky legs. He stared straight in his _father’_ s eyes.

“Let my sister be, this thing is between you and me.”

A cold laughter filled the darkness. “Your sister has always been your only weakness, son.”

Suddenly, the image of a little girl barely standing appeared. She resembled Mukuro very much, hair style and colour, build, eyes.

“Nagi…”

“Yes, your sister. Watch carefully, son.”

His father snapped his fingers. Mukuro had barely the time to blink and hear a feeble voice say: “Brother…?”. The first word she had learned to say. The word Mukuro loved the most.

Fire enveloped the little frame. Cries of horror and pain reached his ears and the boy ran towards his sister. He never reached her, no matter how much he ran. Hot tears streamed cruelly on his cheeks.

“Nagi…!”

Burnt skin let out the smell he knew thanks to the demons. He came to a stop as the fire died out on its own, leaving behind smoke and ashes and bones… Mukuro fell on his knees, feeling… _useless_.

“That’s right. You’re useless. You can’t even defy me.”

Rage filled him as he cried bitter tears. He knew this was not true, this was only in his mind, but it felt horrible anyway. He couldn’t protect his sister, the only one he truly cared about, the only one he would die for…

“Die?” His father was towering over him. “You would die for no one. I know, you’re my son, after all.”

Mukuro suddenly calmed down. Him… like his father? No way in _hell_.

He stood again, fists at his side. “I am not like you.” A surprising heat ignited his body. “I AM NOT LIKE YOU!” Indigo flames surrounded him and a surge of warmth spread in his limbs. “I AM NOT A MONSTER!!”

The flames shot forward and enveloped the figure. It screamed, it writhed, it melted while laughing madly. Mukuro hissed in pain and covered his right eye. It hurt, it felt like it was burning in its socket while leaving the skin untouched, it was–

“Wake up!”

The world spun when he opened his eyes. He took some time to look around and understand what had happened. His heart was still hammering in his ribcage like a mad bull. He was panting. He had to wait some minutes before noticing someone was soothingly massaging his back. It was calming him down, warming his body and making it stop trembling.

He looked at his side. The new boy was trying to smile at him, trying to forget where they were, his own terror. Mukuro nodded in thanks.

“What was that, pyon…?”

“You were… almost screaming…”

“That’s true, how are you feeling?”

He took some time to ask himself why he wanted the warmth back when the hand detached from his back. “Spooked.” He answered. “But fine now.” The other smiled more easily. “What’s your name?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“Ken, pyon.”

“Chikusa.”

The brunette chuckled at Mukuro’s frown. “My name is Tsuna, short for Tsunayoshi.”

“Mukuro.” He blinked. “You’re a foreigner?”

Tsuna nodded. “I’m from Japan.”

The blue-haired boy traced with his fingers the symbol he’d seen on the door, trying to be faithful, in the dirt on the floor of his cage. “Do you know what this means?”

The brunette looked at it with narrowed eyes, but Mukuro saw the flash pass through them. “That’s the kanji for number five in Japanese.”

He quickly drew the other symbols and organized his thoughts. The order in which he had entered the doors was: four, three, one, two, five… Which meant there was a sixth. What had that demon said… ‘ _This is the First Realm, the Realm of Hell, the Naraka Path._ ’ So, the numbers were for the Realm category, but it also had a name, Realm of Hell in this case, and a second one, like Naraka Path. Or it meant Path of Hell and it was just another way to play with his mind.

“Why do you want to know all of this, Mukuro?”

He looked up, lips thinning. “Because I saw them in my mind.”

Tsuna didn’t ask more. He didn’t have time to, as some man in black came to take him, but Mukuro knew he wouldn’t have anyway. The flash of orange had passed through his eyes again… The blue-haired boy had to use all his willpower to not try to stop them from taking Tsuna.

It was unnerving… but not wrong.

It didn’t feel wrong.

But he couldn’t do anything for him. And the other knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry... See ya next week!


	12. 10 – Mukuro - Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last part of the chap here :D Thanks for everything!

When the usual Gorilla came for him, too, Mukuro made sure to search every corner and crevice. Tsuna had to be there, somewhere. His smile was in place, like always, even if his body was sore and exhausted. He wasn’t sure he could face another door like the one from mere hours prior. He didn’t know how he had overcome that door, actually. Just by shouting? What about the heat? And those flames? They had burnt the figure of his father, but not him. Why–

Tsuna.

Mukuro felt that heat surge in his body. His right eye felt like burning. There were some men sitting in the chairs he had wanted to burn so badly. He could recognize influential Mafiosi and his hatred only grew.

“Calm down, brat.”

He only then noticed his smile had fallen and he had started fighting the grip on his arms. He couldn’t help it. Tsuna was there. Glasses was there with _him_. And he had a syringe with a _black_ liquid. No, not _that_ hell.

Mukuro tasted the blood in his mouth before he could think. He rushed to the door that led to the experimenting rooms and counted till three before opening another one. Glasses was surprised to see him there. The boy rushed inside… Someone stopped him. Bruising grips on his shoulders took him out of the room, where Tsuna had been surprised but silent. Scared but firm. Tense but…

“It’s ok!”

Those words reached his ears before the Gorilla closed him in his room and strapped him to the bed. His tries to gain back his fleeting freedom were useless. The only thing assuring him Tsuna was fine – for the moment – was Glasses appearing with the syringe still in his hands, _still_ _full_.

“That’s new, it seems to me you need to be _treated urgently_.”

He left it on the nearby table and took another… An azure liquid almost shone through the plastic.

“Last one.” He sneered. “Let’s see the final results.”

Mukuro was sent again in front of a door, no matter how much he hissed and trashed. There it was, an azure surface that almost gave off the feeling of peace. He quickly pushed it open, entering without checking his surroundings. The door disappeared in bubbles. He was in a much different environment this time.

There was no darkness, but a clear sky and lush green grass until the eye could see. A bright sun shed cleansing light all over. Mukuro felt reinvigorated, but focused. He had to get out. The sooner, the better. He didn’t know why exactly he felt that anxious, but he couldn’t ignore the feeling.

He took a step, then stopped and sat down. He looked up. A whisper had come from the false sky. Here it was, again, and again… Clearer.

“Do you know why you’re here?” He could hear after ten tries at understanding the soft-spoken words.

Mukuro narrowed his eyes. “No.”

“Do you know where ‘here’ is?”

“I have a guess.”

“Speak.”

He swallowed. “Hell.”

A chuckle drifted through the air, light as rain. “That is right. Well done.”

“Why am I here?” He forced his voice to be steady.

“Because we wanted to test you first.”

Then… “The Realms?”

Another chuckle. “First Realm, the Realm of Hell.” The bloody, black door. “Second Realm, the Realm of Hungry Ghosts.” The grey door. “Third Realm, the Realm of Beasts.” The dark green, carved door. “Fourth Realm, the Realm of Demons.” … The blood red door. “Fifth Realm, the Realm of Humans.” His father, the ruined door. “And the Sixth Realm, the Realm of Heavens.”

Mukuro arched a brow. “Heavens… in Hell?”

“Huhu… There’s not only black and white in your world. Grey is the hue that tints everything. But, a sin will always be a sin.”

He… felt lost. “What are your trying to tell me?”

“What have you learned from the Hungry Ghosts?”

His eyes narrowed even more. “That Mafia is evil.”

“You already knew that, little one.” The soft voice reprimanded. “Try harder. Why were they there, then?”

They… That was right. They should have been… _resting_. “They committed crimes.”

“Yes. Victims or not, they were sinners to begin with.”

“But not everyone.” He tried.

“Ghosts are selfish beings, they like to show only what they want.” The voice paused. “They like sympathy.”

Mukuro looked down. “Why are you telling me this? Why have you tested me?”

“Because it’s been a long time since someone still alive visited.” Another pause. “I’m telling you this because you have overcome our tests. I’m telling you this because you have now the right to use our powers.”

He shivered. “Who are you?”

“… We are the Guardians of the Doors. The rulers of the Realms. The embodiment of your new powers.”

This could only be a joke. “What powers?”

“The power to create illusions, thanks to the… experiences you endured. The power to use the skills of others, because you now have learned to look twice before judging. The power to summon and control animals, because they now respect your will. The power to increase your combat abilities, because you successfully ran away from our minions. The power to increase your strength, thanks to your will to go against your worst enemy.” A pause, in which Mukuro finally breathed. “The power to possess others is my gift to you, little one.”

He tried to connect the dots as his mind failed to function properly. Powers? Tests? Rulers? Gifts?

Wait, he had still done nothing in this Realm.

“In fact, you’ve done it out of here.”

Mukuro looked up as information about his new powers flooded unnaturally his mind. His right eye hurt, but it was also warm. The same flames from the previous door enveloped his body and he stood, looking at his unburnt hands.

“What have I done?”

He felt observed, but shrugged it off. “You’ve showed care.”

In a blink, Mukuro felt a shift and he was back in the experimenting room. A quick look around and he saw Glasses put down the syringe he had used on his arm and take again the one destined for Tsuna. His right eye changed symbol and, with strength he didn’t originally have, Mukuro tore the leather straps off the bed, regaining his freedom. The sounds caught the scientist’s attention, that had the time to turn. But not to call for reinforcement. Mukuro was faster.

He kneed the man in the stomach and elbowed his spine as he doubled over, losing consciousness and control over his legs for the rest of his useless life. Without losing time, he ignited his palms and shot it forward on the glassed wall. It lapped at the material like a good puppy and started spreading. Screams came from the double-way glass and he _willed_ the flames to prevent them from escaping.

If it didn’t work, no matter, he would hunt them down before they could get too far. Mukuro quickly opened the door and sent the only present Gorilla flying towards the fire, relishing in the screams of pain. He went to Tsuna’s door and opened it, breath caught in his throat.

The brunette looked up at him from the bed with flashing eyes and a relieved smile. Mukuro freed him and let him down on the floor.

“Thank you.”

He nodded. “We need to leave.”

Tsuna lifted his palms… An orange, addicting flame surrounded the skin, protecting and threatening. “Go free the others.” Mukuro looked up at the sunset eyes, unable to answer. “I’ll take care of our way out.”

He didn’t know why – _again_ – but he did exactly that without arguing. Astonishing. He believed… He _trusted_ that boy.

Mukuro was done with the Gorillas in no time. Some were caught in an endless torturing illusion, some were unconscious on the floor, some were trying to flee towards their end. He was sure Tsuna was no jokes, he just _knew_ it. Those flames were stronger than his own, he could tell with only a glance.

Without giving explanations, he freed the children. Ken and Chikusa were the first, they then helped with the others in the additional storage rooms thanks to the keys Mukuro had stolen. He led them silently through the corridor they all hated and came to the showing room… The floor was covered in bodies, the fire he’d started wasn’t advancing further from the experimenting rooms. Tsuna was waiting for them in front of the only door Mukuro had wanted to open in that hellhole. It was off its hinges. From where he stood, he could see an elevator and some stairs.

“This way, they are coming.”

The flash of orange in his eyes only made Mukuro walk faster. Along with the other, well-behaving children. They climbed the stairs as they didn’t trust the elevator. It could become a cage. After two flights, they were in a cubical room with only one wooden door. Tsuna destroyed it with a kick and motioned for them to come out. They did.

The chilly night air hit their faces. Mukuro didn’t let the attraction of relax hinder his mind, he looked around and assessed his surroundings. They were at the feet of a mountain, the door was dug in it. Some cars were parked in the forest all around them, few hidden paths leading there. The sky was cloudy, but stars could be seen easily. The moon towered over them.

A hand was on his shoulders when he was sure there were no more enemies. It was Tsuna’s. Ken and Chikusa were in front of him, checking him. He wore his usual smile and straightened. The brunette pursed his lips, something warm spread in his body from the hand on his shoulder. He instantly relaxed.

“It’s ok, my family is here.” He smiled. “We’re safe now.”

And Mukuro believed him.

It didn’t matter that Reborn, the World’s Strongest Hitman, was the first to appear, crouching down in front of Tsuna with an unmistakable worried expression.

It didn’t matter that the family coming turned out to be a blood-thirsty Vongola elites’ squad, complete with Varia ready to massacre whatever moved the wrong way, trees included.

It didn’t matter that a lion cub was leading them and had immediately jumped in Tsuna’s arms, cuddling with the boy, demanding to be petted and licking his cheeks without stopping anytime soon.

It didn’t matter that Verde, the World’s Smartest Scientist, was with them and the wolf and the crocodile that were accompanying him sat near the brunette looking all but happy, neither that the World’s Fastest Martial Artist and a monkey were trying to stop a little Arcobaleno look-alike from ‘biting people to death’ while a bird and a porcupine were looking just as murderous.

All that mattered to him now was that he felt safe, _truly_ safe… and that his sister needed that same safety.

 

The children were swiftly moved from that forest to one of Vongola’s safehouses. Not a mansion, but Mukuro wasn’t going to complain. His bed was more than comfortable, compared to the cell he’d had to live in for four months, he found out. Before resting, though, the boy had asked for a map of Italy. Reborn had eyed him suspiciously, but handed one to him after Tsuna had kindly tugged his sleeve with a reassuring. Mukuro, ignoring how everyone listened to the doy, had then signed with a pencil every facilities’ location he could remember. Which, thanks to his memory, hadn’t left out any.

After that, Tsuna had led every child to a bedroom. Ken and Chikusa had refused to leave his side, thing that hadn’t irked him, strangely. He was now looking up at the white ceiling, laying down on his bed after a dreamless sleep. He couldn’t say he was completely rested, but he was less exhausted, and it was a great change already.

He lifted a hand to cover his right eye. Mukuro changed the number, testing each of them. It was strange to feel it shift under his palm, the flame warm but unburning around his orb with the Realm of Demons, around his whole body with the Realm of Humans… Nagi.

What was he going to do about her? How could he save her?

As much as it made him angry, Mukuro had no idea where she was. Last time he’d seen her had been before Vongola Nono’s party… When his father had… threatened him… to behave… else…

 _That_ ’s where he’d met Tsuna the first time. He was the kid that had stared at him from the other side of the big entrance, standing near a silver-haired kid, before Nono had come. How could he have forgotten? Ha had almost slipped to him, almost told him about his Famiglia’s deeds, risking his sister’s life.

Why, _how_ could this boy have such leverage on him? It was… unnatural… Though it didn’t feel so…

“What happened to your eye, pyon?” Ken’s voice was no longer hoarse.

Chikusa sat up to look at him, his dark blue eyes finally focused. “It changed colour, idiot.”

“I noticed that!! I was asking what happened, pyon!”

“He isn’t obligated to answer you, so shut up and let me sleep.”

Mukuro resisted the urge to thank him. He didn’t want to talk about it, he didn’t even want to think about it. With a sigh, he decided that trying to sleep was useless and stood, leaving the room. Finding no one guarding the door was strange. He’d never felt as free as in that moment. In one of Vongola’s safehouses. That… were they underestimating the children? This was completely… unprofessional.

The boy stretched and started walking around through the corridors. They were not as suffocating as the one in the facility, but he felt the need to breath fresh air, so he searched for a door that led out.

Back to the problem at hand. He was free, how to find and save his sister? He had to delete the illusion the Realm had shown him, but it was a possibility. If she really was in one of those hellholes, then Vongola would have found her… dead or alive. He had made sure Reborn knew where to search for the corpses. He seriously hoped she was fine…

“Can’t sleep?”

Mukuro looked up, blinking twice. He was in a living room, the floor lamp was dimmed near the little couch. On the low table was a tray with teapots and teacups. Tsuna was sitting on the floor with crossed legs, a book open on them. His left index was lightly signing one word… What language was that? And why was he there instead of out of a random window?

“Apparently.” He answered, unsure.

Tsuna smiled at him and closed his book, patting the spot on the carpet at his right. “I’ll give you something warm.” He put it aside and stood to kneel in front of the low table.

Mukuro sat down almost on auto-pilot. Seriously, this thing was mind-blowing. He needed to understand. And this was a golden chance, with no blood-thirsty assassin around to filter things.

Before he could ask, however, a steaming teacup was in his hands. The smell of dark chocolate hit him. He was tasting it right after, because it was not too hot, not even checking if it was poisoned… It was _delicious_. The one he’d always drank in his house was nothing compared to this.

“Do you like it?”

He looked up, cup held tightly in his hands warming him. “Thank you.” He nodded.

“You’re welcome.” Tsuna took another cup and sipped some. “Penny for your thoughts?” His eyes flashed again, golden for some seconds and the warm brown he felt called by returned soon after.

“I…” A question, he had to ask him… “Why were you scared?”

Mukuro would have cursed at himself… If Tsuna had not suddenly flinched, wide-eyed. He immediately regretted letting his mouth work without his brain. Whatever he was hiding deep inside, it was not his right to ask… as it was not others’ to ask Mukuro about his personal hell.

“Why are you always warm?”

Tsuna flinched again, but less than before. His knuckles, white from holding too tight the cup, became slowly pinkish. He tried a smile.

“That’s because of my flames.”

Mukuro blinked. He held on the cup with only one hand, lifting the other. His eye shifted and indigo flames wrapped around his limb, gently lapping at his skin.

“Yes, those are your Mist Flames.” He looked up as Tsuna showed him his hand, that suddenly ignited in orange, translucent, _warm_ Flames. “And these are Sky Flames.”

Mukuro didn’t even notice his hand putting down the cup and reaching to touch them. Tsuna didn’t back away, thing that, he couldn’t fathom why, _reassured_ him. His own Flames shied away from the orange ones, almost respectfully keeping their distance. Tsuna neared his hand, his Flames gently wrapping around the indigo ones.

Mukuro failed to name the sensations flooding his system. He could only tell that no one, _no fucking one_ , would be able to harm him, take him, torture him. The memories of the Realms got washed away, a waterfall of warmth and trust shielding his pained and tired mind.

He barely asked himself if it was all an illusion before falling forward in a dreamless, peaceful, resting, warm sleep.

 

Mukuro woke up wonderfully. His hurting body felt rested, healed and energized. His eye still felt odd, but his smile was on place again, though softer. He hugged the familiar warmth and didn’t acknowledge the fact that hit him immediately.

He was hugging Tsuna’s waist, his head on the other’s lap. A hand was in his hair, kind and reassuring. The sun was peeking through the light creamy curtains, it was nice to see it again. He chanced a glance up.

Tsuna was sleeping with his head on the couch’s cushion, they were still on the carpet.

He’d just slept on the floor… And he had never had a better sleep.

Ironic.

The warmth from few hours prior was like a thick blanket that kept the cold of the night away. Mukuro wouldn’t admit it out loud anytime soon, but he’d never felt so safe…

The thought that had been poking his mind since seeing how the whole Famiglia held in high regards Tsuna reappeared, taking the silhouette of one of those demons with a trident.

Stray, not-his ideas popped in his mind.

_… take him as a hostage…_

_… harm him like they’ve hurt you…_

_… possess him, destroy It from the inside…_

_… make Them kneel…_

_… make Them PAY._

Then the warmth _tightened_. He forgot those voices, sighing, and his arms lost strength, falling on Tsuna’s sides. The brunette stirred, though, slowly blinking open his eyes. He yawned, completely at ease, a tear almost escaping his left eye, as if Mukuro was not there… sleeping on his lap… relaxing in the Sky Flames… _plotting the possession of his bo–_

“Mornin’, Mukuro… Slept well?”

Why was he smiling so openly, so kindly, so… accepting? Why?

Tears slid down his cheeks as he sat up and hid his eyes. Crying? He was crying… He had not cried when his father first tried to kill him, with a gun, when he was three. He had not cried when his first personal maid, the one that read him bed stories, had betrayed him for money. He had not cried when his mother had died after his sister’s birth in an ‘accident’. He had not cried when Glasses had injected him those painful drugs. He had not cried when those demons had tortured him for what felt like weeks, in every way they could, with every tool they had, with those sick smiles on thei–

Two warm, accepting, _caring_ arms surrounded his shaking shoulders.

“It’s okay… I know you won’t… Don’t feel guilty…”

He had not cried out of pain, emotional or bodily, but he was crying at the prospect of betraying Tsuna. Someone that had his fair share of painful memories, of haunting ghosts. Someone that was lulling him like his mother used to. Someone that trusted him not to do something awful just to taste revenge. Someone that had showed care since moment one, in that entrance hall, and that had showed care afterwards. Someone that was trusting Mukuro, the mastermind behind fool’s play back at home…

It was melting his icy heart with no effort.

And Mukuro didn’t care anymore.

He just wanted his sister safe, as he was feeling right then, right there, in the arms of a boy that had been a stranger less than two days prior.

The thoughts of taking his sweet revenge didn’t fade completely, they were still there, but the voices were so muffled, low, weak, that Mukuro could drown them out in his own, more powerful will.

 

Finding out Tsuna slept with the lion cub in his room had been rather amusing. Mukuro cared little about his presence in a bedroom, mainly considering they had been rescued that fast thanks to him and his smell. He had been dropped in there by Reborn, that had demanded a private conversation with the brunette. They had come ten minutes later to find Mukuro sitting on the floor, at the low table, having a glaring contest with the pup. Tsuna didn’t interrupt them immediately, petting the lion, whose name had yet to be decided, apparently.

“I trust him, he’s kind.” He said with a warm smile.

The lion started purring and jumped on his hair, making a nest out of it. He fell asleep in no time. Mukuro stood and huffed.

“You made me wait, Tsunayoshi.”

“I’m sorry.” He smiled. “Come, let’s have breakfast.”

They left the room silently. Mukuro observed the house, but found it plain compared to the Vongola mansion he’d visited during Nono’s party. He’d seen only the front garden and two rooms, but it was enough to understand.

The kitchen wasn’t small, but not big either. Mukuro shouldn’t be surprised to see a lot of kids there, but he was. Of the children freed from the laboratory, only Ken and Chikusa were there, guarded by Fon, the World’s Fastest Martial Artist. The red-faced monkey, Lichi, was sitting on his shoulder, nibbling at some dried fruit. At the table for eight was the man’s look-alike, arms crossed, a coat on his shoulders. The little yellow bird and purple porcupine were on the table, sleeping soundly. Varia’s Boss, Xanxus, was leaning on a wall, eyes closed and rage quelled compared to the night before. There was no trace of the other Varia’s members, but Mukuro wasn’t going to complain. A silver-haired kid was sitting in front of Fon’s look-alike, glaring at an empty glass. The World’s Smartest Scientist was reading a piece of paper with the utmost attention, biting his lower lip, holding his chin between index and thumb. The crocodile, Keiman, was on the counter of the kitchen on which Verde was almost sitting. He was very tall. The wolf, not an adult yet, was laying on the floor near his feet, head up and observing.

“Hayato, stop, you’ll start bleeding.”

Maybe they had been too deep in their thoughts, but no one had noticed them arriving, Reborn silently disappearing before they entered. The silver-haired, Hayato then, instantly stood and approached Tsuna, seemingly checking him for any injury. The brunette chuckled.

“I’m fine, Mukuro helped me.” Hayato sighed, relieved, and moved just as Fon’s look-alike appeared out of nowhere.

“Little animal….”

“I know, Kyouya, but it wasn’t my fault. They came while I was in the garden.” The bird flew to the brunette’s head and landed on the lion’s mane….

No, he wasn’t going to question how nature allowed that.

“Fortunately, we came in time…”

Tsuna smiled. “Yes, Fon-san, thank you.”

“I swear, you’re a trouble-magnet, Tsunayoshi.” Verde pushed up the glasses on his nose.

The brunette giggled. “I’m sorry…?”

“Little Sky, you need to train more if they were able to take you.”

“Ok, Xanxus-nii. I almost did it, but they surprised me with some sleeping darts.”

“How many of them?”

“I think… Thirty.”

Mukuro blinked to not gape. Ok. Ok. Fine. Piece of cake. He didn’t want to deal with that at the moment.

…

Weak. His. Ass. Tsuna was probably stronger than himself. He strangely felt bad at that.

The brunette pushed Mukuro into a chair near Chikusa and went to prepare something for breakfast. Which… Ok, he wanted to try his cooking, what with that dark chocolate – he knew on instinct it had not been brewed by some machine or maid. He sighed and settled to wait.

“How?” Mukuro found himself asking, curious.

Hayato was the first to answer, understanding perfectly what he meant, with a frown. “He saved me from being lost.” The Mist Flames’ user knew that ‘lost’ hinted at much more than the usual ‘lost in a city’.

Surprisingly, even the ever hn-ning boy talked. “He is warm.”

Which, duh, sure. He agreed. Totally. But that answer made him kind of irritated, somehow.

“Do you have more questions, Mukuro?”

He looked up at the boy, that didn’t seem completely at ease while offering that breach. He didn’t want to think that through more than needed.

“No.”

Those eyes read him like an open book. “Of course I can.”

Mukuro blinked, forcing the smile to not fall. Someone in the mansion had dubbed it as creepy when they had arrived. “You can what, Tsunayoshi?” Yes, he was sure now, he liked the full name better.

Tsuna smiled. “As you wish.” He rolled his eyes softly, pouring some hot milk in the bowls on the table and giving them some cereals. “I can help you.” He took the honey and some spoons. “With whatever is troubling you.”

Before he could retort – he was not reading his mind, that was out of question –, the door to the kitchen opened. Reborn entered, making silence fall. Ken stopped bantering with Hayato, which was a balm for his ears. Behind him, a maid had a little girl sleeping in her a–

“Nagi…”

Mukuro was on his feet before the realization could dawn on him. He lifted his arms and his sister was passed to him by the maid, that left with a smile. He held her tight, wondering if he was dreaming. She was warm, she was healthy, she was _safe_.

“How…?”

“An intuition.” Tsuna said from behind him.

“Yes, regarding that…” The temperature dropped. “One week, Tsuna.” Reborn walked to the brunette, that pouted. “I was absent for only _one_ week. Explain.”

“We would like to hear that, too.” Verde added, Mukuro turned to better see the scene.

It was a bit… alien. Three Arcobaleno trying to intimidate a brunette boy with scolding gazes while said boy just smiled and shrugged, scratching his nape. Lichi landed on the table to eat some cereals, as if it was enjoying a good movie. The wolf barked but didn’t move, like Keiman.

“It wasn’t my fault, there were too many, Reborn. Thirty or so.”

“You were in the garden at _night_ , Tsuna. You know that’s dangerous.”

“But my Intuition told me to, and you always say to trust it.”

The hitman pinched the bridge of his nose. “But I always add that you should think it over, too.”

“Well… Everything went fine, right? A lot of children are safe now.”

Reborn’s eyes narrowed. “We’ll talk more later.”

Mukuro would lie forever and say he had not jumped when several heads _poked through the wall_. Ken shrieked. Hayato had his eyes wide. Fon was coughing, eyes open, while covering his mouth with a sleeved hand. Verde was taking notes. Kyouya just hn-ned. Chikusa barely blinked while eating his breakfast.

Chaos erupted.

The ghosts started talking one over the other, making it impossible to hear what they were saying at all. Tsunayoshi answered to everyone in order and let them hug him – _how_. Mukuro, though, was connecting some dots. There was a blonde, grown-up Kyouya having a glaring contest with the child Kyouya, a red-haired grown-up Hayato having a contest with the child Hayato at who gaped more and… And a grown-up _him_ seizing himself up and down. And his sister. Mukuro shielded her protectively.

“Tsunayoshi, are you assembling our descendants, by chance?” He asked, crossing his arms and leaning down.

“Don’t scare them, Daemon-jii. And no, I am not… Well, not on purpose.”

“Oh, then you have to go to Japan! You’ll find two more!” A man dressed in… a tunic? Said.

“Ultimately!!!” That man was a boxer… or a priest?

“Shut up you idiots!!” The ghosts disappeared through the wall in the dusty cloud of a brawl.

“Thinking about it, why are all of you in Italy?”

“Hn.”

“That’s… petty, Kyouya. But thank you.”

“I took care of annoying pests and decided to end my sabbatical in the mountains.” That smile… Not innocent at all. What pests?

“I helped them with the pests.” Verde pointed his thumb at the other two Arcobaleno. “Then decided to make use of the mansion and its laboratories. And of your Flames.” Mukuro narrowed his eyes at that, but said nothing. The brunette trusted these people, after all.

The wolf stood and jumped on Tsuna’s lap, demanding to be pet. The lion got jealous and did the same. They started growling at each other. Kyouya took out… tonfas.

“Little animal.”

“It’s not my fault!”

“Hn.”

“Ok, ok, let’s fight! But not here, first we have to finish breakfast.”

The tonfas disappeared and Kyouya sat down to eat.

Mukuro observed them, slightly put off. A little tug at his hair made him look down. Nagi had woken up and was looking at him with doe eyes.

“Brother…?” His hold tightened at the sudden memory of a certain door. “You ok?”

“I…” He glanced at the chaos ensuing in front of him. “I’m fine, I think…” A different kind of warmth, one he had only when he and his sister were given alone time, took hold of his ribcage. “We’re safe, Nagi.” His smile morphed, it became true. “We’re safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, next up is the filler. It's not truly right to dub it as such, because it is very much important for the whole story, but, differently from the other chapters, the next one doesn't focus on one character only. I need to clarify some things and use many POVs that make this easier.
> 
> See ya!


	13. 11 – Strong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah! This was a bit hard on me! Ok, to be honest, it isn't much more to feed you, it's just a setting chapter, a filler as I've already put it. There are a lot of hints, a lot of preparations fro future events I've planned and even hidden little presents that will become clearer as you read incoming chapters :) I have what I want to write for the next one and I think it will be a lot less dramatic or sad, ok?
> 
> So, a bit of a WARNING: mention of torture, of abuse, of corpses and death. And this might break your heart, as well as make you really angry.
> 
> Now, once more, thanks for everything! You don't know how much what you do makes me happy :D

Reborn finally understood why he’d been so reluctant to leave Tsuna in Italy.

Granted, he couldn’t have brought the boy into the mess they’d done to the Triads. Fon had thoroughly destroyed their core members and facilities, letting it stand only on its Boss. That had then sworn – and put black on white – that they would have left the Hibari’s alone. Forever. Verde had even registered the conversation for ransom and testimony. The scientist had had a great time taking samples of Flames during the whole ordeal, that had taken around four days to get done. Some more hours for their flight back – Verde had insisted on coming with them, Fon was finally free and the boy simply wanted to meet Tsuna – and they were in Vongola mansion…

He didn’t expect to find it in chaos. One he didn’t like and hoped not to see ever again.

It was late, too late for the mansion to be so awake. Maids and butlers were running one way or another, looking, searching for something… He quickly stopped one frantic woman, that instantly relaxed at his presence, which was the opposite he wanted.

“What happened.”

“Young Master Tsunayoshi…” Reborn felt dread creep through his skin. “We can’t find him. He is not in his room, someone saw him going outside, in the garden, but he’s not there…” Her voice quivered.

The hitman let her go and ignored his two colleagues following him. He found the office and didn’t even knock. Vongola Nono was standing behind his desk, cane in hand and staring at nothing. Xanxus was digging a hole in the pavement, walking back and forth. Squalo was a mix of uneasiness and rage, silently glaring at the only window behind the older man in the room.

They didn’t even notice the new group entering through the door. Reborn, a strange and uncomfortable feeling bubbling up in his stomach, closed the door with more strength than necessary. That gained their attention.

“Reborn, thank God… Tsunayoshi…” Nono struggled to keep in rage and sadness, hand on the cane tightening until its knuckles turned white. “We can’t find him…”

“Damn idiot guards!! What were they doing?!?”

“Dealing with the distraction.” Squalo cringed, regretting his words.

“What the fuck are they trained for?!?!?”

“ _Shut_ _up_.” Reborn flared his bloodlust without control, stepping towards the desk. “What. Happened.”

Nono sighed and sat, head covered by his free hand. “Around seven thirty, a group of mercenaries attacked the mansion. There were many, so the guards went to take care of them. A maid, at nine, saw Tsunayoshi go to the back garden, asked him why he was going there and he answered that he wanted to walk a bit. When the attack was stopped, the guards went back to their posts. The ones stationed in the back courtyard found many unconscious bodies and signs of a fight, no trails past the forest’s line… Tsunayoshi isn’t in the mansion, Reborn.”

The weak flash of gold in Timoteo’s eyes only worsened the hitman’s untamed rage. There were a lot of things passing through his mind, but the most important was the urge to find Tsuna. To make sure he was fine, safe, unharmed.

“The unconscious bodies?”

“The ghosts are taking care of the interrogations.” Squalo shivered.

“The mercenaries?”

Xanxus snorted. “Dead.”

Reborn brushed a hand on his face, not even noticing Leon curled on his fedora changing colour to a dark, dark red. Fon and Verde behind him were utterly silent, but the same bloodlust could be detected coming off of them.

“Lal?”

“Distracting Iemitsu.”

“You haven’t told him.”

Nono shook his head. “He’s already gone through a lot. I want to avoid him going on a rampage all over Italy… and beyond.”

Reborn nodded, not sure about that, sending a glance to the sleeping small Hibari. An almost bonded Cloud, he didn’t want to know what he would be doing if he heard of this. The hitman himself was ready to tear apart whoever did this, limb by limb, slowly and painfully. He sighed at the image of skin torn off the imaginary culprit and freed his mind from those thoughts – for the moment.

He looked at his phone. 00:56. Approximatively four hours since Tsuna’s kidnap. Plenty of time to hide him and do _something_ to him. He was the target, because they had planned a diversion, prepared a second group of people and fled with him. There had not been another attack, they had what they wanted…

“The birthday party.”

Nono nodded. “Yes, I agree.”

Someone had taken an interest – what _kind_ – in Tsuna. He was, _again_ , in the hands of some psycho.

“We have nothing to track him down?” Fon looked at Verde, talking for the first time. His voice was deceptively calm and silky, his smile sharp and cold.

“No. I will work on something later.”

Track him down… Maybe–

Reborn turned to the door and left the room in swift, long strides. He walked along the corridor, turning right and left as memory helped him to. His two colleagues were behind him, soon joined by Xanxus and Squalo. They wisely didn’t stop him or ask him what was going on. The hitman came to a halt in front of Tsuna’s room. Low whines and scratches could be heard from it. Reborn pushed it open and immediately located the source of those sounds.

The little cub was on the floor, his thin tail swinging angrily in the air and his small, amber eyes narrowed at him. Yes, they both didn’t like each other. They’d understood that quite soon. But now was not the time for stupid pride.

“A… lion…?” Fon said, making Hibari Jr stir a bit.

“Another Flame active animal?” Verde unhelpfully asked.

Reborn took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, and crouched down. “Can you find him?”

The cub’s eyes narrowed even more before his head lowered in a single nod. He didn’t dwell on the fact that he could understand human speech, only took him up, gently, and went to the garden. Leon slid to his arm and then on the lion’s head, his colour changing back to green, but still a dark shade. Reborn put the cub down when he noticed the first signs of a fight on the gravel path and bushes. There were several footprints, trails dug in the dirt and torn pieces of clothes. The lion sniffed around, bit some rags, padded up and down the area. His tail was literally whipping the air in clear irritation.

Some minutes passed like that. Reborn kept what he was feeling buried down, deep within his body. Verde was not taking notes on what he was observing, a Flame active lion cub searching for a trail. Fon’s arms were tighter around Kyouya, that was one step away from waking up. The wolf tailing the scientist was strangely collected while Lichi and Keiman were starting to seem threatening. Squalo was biting his thumb, almost causing a wound. Xanxus was on the verge of imploding.

Reborn kept his cool. Not soon enough, the cub perked up at a certain footprint and dashed to the destroyed gate. The hitman hurried after him like a hellhound, ignoring the others and everything else, focusing on the lion, his surroundings a second thought of his ingrained instincts as an assassin. He sped through the forest that engulfed the mansion, never losing sight of the little animal, jumping over wild roots, past thick bushes, catching sights of footprints here and there in the dirt.

Right trail.

They ran like that for what seemed like hours, but were just ten minutes at their speed. A clearing appeared almost suddenly, making the hitman stop and glare at the tracks of tires on the grass. He took his phone and called the mansion.

“Cars. East. 2 minutes.”

And ended it. He took up the cub and ran after the tracks, arriving soon at the asphalted road through a dirt one. The tracks could be followed to the left. The lion was behaving in his arms, maybe he had reached Reborn’s same thoughts about cooperating and throwing away his damn pride. He absently poked the cub’s head with a finger as three black cars stopped in front of them. He opened the door of the driving seat and internally struggled to let the man get off on his own, taking the spot and waiting _patiently_ for the others to hop on. Thankfully, they knew Reborn, they understood and didn’t need to be told to be quick. Reborn’s eyes were used to the darkness, but being in the car made things harder. Leon slid on the steering wheel and out through the window to morph into a big flashlight.

The hitman smirked. He could see the tracks clearly. He stepped on the accelerator, hoping the dirt didn’t fade too soon. The silence in the car was tense, but Reborn was probably tenser. His hands itched to hold his gun. His brain lusted for heads to shoot at.

Someone was going to pay dearly for this. Once he had Tsuna safe again.

“Carnivores...”

Clouds are strong by definition, but this one had potential Reborn had seen only in Skull. His student had managed to make this Cloud attached, dependant on an equally, if not more, strong Sky. It was an explosive combination in their current situation.

“Kyouya.” He took a turn to the left, listening closely to Fon. “We’re facing an emergency right no–“

“Where’s the little animal.”

The martial artist ruffled the boy’s hair, not smiling. “Tsunayoshi has been kidnapped.”

Reborn wasn’t prepared to face such killing intent from a child. On the other hand, he wasn’t exactly surprised.

“We’re going there, kid. Keep it down.” _If you can._

He could. The killing intent got suppressed in some seconds, Reborn didn’t even want to notice the shock – barely recognizable – on Fon’s face.

The tracks were fading, but luck was on their side. They followed them to a crossroad and on the right, where there was no more asphalt. There were tires’ lines on the dirt road and Reborn decided it was not safe to go on with the cars. He stopped it on the side and climbed out, like the others.

“Verde, loc–“

“On it.”

“Fon, call–“

“Right away.”

Reborn huffed and put the cub on the dirt, crouching down. “Do you smell his scent?”

The lion started searching, Leon was on his head. The hitman patiently waited as his colleagues did what they had to. They couldn’t take chances.

Whoever had kidnapped Tsuna had thought this through, so he/she was not an idiot. They had to use the surprise effect wisely, raiding the place where Tsuna was being held with all their forces. What if the enemy noticed them coming and moved the Sky, making them lose the tracks this time? No, they had to do this well and thoroughly.

The lion nudged his hand. Reborn looked down and saw it nod, sitting down.

“Ok. We have to wait.” And that was more to himself than to the little animal.

 

Reborn swore in his mind, he would teach Vongola’s men how to deal with panic regarding Tsuna’s troubles. They had taken the whole night just to reorganize and he was at his patience’s end. Fon and Verde were only slightly better. No use mentioning the little Hibari’s jump-and-run attempts all the while.

When they finally were ready, the sun was up in the sky and they could not act freely in its light. Reborn instructed them – dark aura enveloping his whole being – to sift through the forest in little groups. No solo craziness, radios existed for reasons. He led a group of his own with the lion cub on the front, sniffing around.

They found the cars used to kidnap Tsuna abandoned under some thick branches. To save the forest, Verde had to use some invention of his to tame the Flames that the lion cub had sent to them in pure ire. Reborn was changing opinion about the beast.

The cub then sniffed around and started following Tsuna’s scent. The hitman found some tracks here and there, but nothing he could use to not rely on the lion. It was irritating, very much so, however he had no choice, his priority was to save Tsuna.

When they arrived at a small clearing at the feet of a precipice, the night had fallen on them. Reborn located the door hidden in the rocks just as it opened. The cub sped through the last bush shielding them from who could be their enemy and the hitman bit back a curs–

Tsuna.

Reborn slowly walked forward, his eyes quickly darting from one child to the other. The smell of burning reached his nostrils and smoke came out from the door, not thick, not too much…

“It’s ok, my family is here.” The hitman looked at his charge, that was smiling at a boy with heterochromatic eyes. “We’re safe now.”

That… Reborn swiftly approached his student and crouched down at his level to better study him. How was he? What had happened? What did they _do_? Who dared–

Tsuna just smiled more, but it was strained… and Reborn understood. Not the time, not the location, not the situation to dwell on those answers. The brunette was doing his best to push everything down, away, safely tucked in some corner of his mind… for later. Reborn mentally swore, because Tsuna didn’t deserve… _any_ of this.

 

Estraneo had flown too high.

These were the words that everyone had in their minds, even the ghosts. Expectedly. The rage, along with pure relief, thrummed in the whole mansion. Patches of different Flames trying to calm down all over the building, fiery fires not succeeding at all…

Vongola Nono patiently waited for his ‘adopted’ grandson to come. His mind was frankly messed and he needed a good night sleep, but he first had to see, to make sure, Tsunayoshi was really safe and sound. He stood from the armchair behind the desk and walked to the little library, listening to his weak Intuition. Someone had finally been informed and was about to storm this study room in some minutes, hopefully after the child.

His memory went to his first meeting with the little Sky, as Xanxus liked to affectionately call him. Who would have known… Everything following that evening, when Timoteo had brought the wounded, scared boy to Vongola mansion, had been unexpected, peaceful and almost impossible. His adopted son acting like an older brother… It was a sight that warmed his chest each and every time. To see Xanxus train someone, become angry for someone, _caring_ … He had privately shed tears over the little, precious miracle.

Timoteo was old. His many years were starting to weigh on his shoulders, on his heart. His duties were becoming harder and harder to carry on. Famiglie all over Italy were showing signs of discomfort with Vongola’s current situation, going as far as trying to go against them, like Estraneo just had.

His fists tightened on the cane’s handle. What had happened needed a firm and unrelenting answer. His men had stormed each and every facility pointed out by the Mukuro boy, freeing uncountable children and animals. That was the last report he’d received, Reborn was bringing the rest in that moment. The hitman, one of his most-trusted friend by then, had received quite the blow from Tsunayoshi’s kidnap. Nono was wise enough to not bring up the subject, but the man was clearly attached to the boy. It was another small miracle, if he could say so. The Mafia Don had noticed how his life was losing significance, how his friend was losing sight of what was important, of a true purpose in life.

And what about Lal Mirch? The Famiglia at large? His Guardians that refused to get near the boy, fearing tainting him? The First Generation? Himself? The new people – two Arcobaleno, even –  showing up and claiming to be the boy’s acquaintances? … Iemitsu?

… Would he have done the same to–

Two soft knocks on the door made Nono sigh and shake his head. “Come in.”

It opened slowly, Tsunayoshi entered, soon followed by Reborn, with a soft smile, eyes kind and happy. He seemed healthy, though maybe tired… As everyone else. His shoulders were a bit stiff and his eyes slightly red.

“Good morning, Timo-jii.”

“Good morning, Tsuna. How are you feeling?”

The boy walked to him as Reborn closed the door without a sound. “A bit tired… I’m sorry.”

Timoteo smiled at the sad face and lifted a hand to ruffle the mane of brown hair. “You’re safe, that’s what matters. And if you can…”

Tsuna’s smile returned. “Yes, I will.” The door flew open and the boy quickly hugged his father’s waist tightly.

“T-Tsuna…?”

Iemitsu’s prepared and angered words had probably died on his throat at seeing his son, at feeling him breathing and safe and alive and…

“Yes, dad?”

“Are… Are y-you ok?”

The man took up his boy to check on him with his own eyes. “I am, everyone came looking for me and Mukuro helped me.”

“Mukuro…?”

“My new friend, he was a prisoner there.”

Iemitsu stopped looking at his son’s body to move his gaze on the caramel eyes. Tons of emotions, along with a golden hue, passed through the man’s orbs. He gave a soft sigh, touching his son’s forehead with his own.

“Tsuna, don’t… Don’t disappear on me a third time, ok?” The father draped his arms around his boy’s body and closed his eyes. “Please, don’t…”

And if there was a desperate tint in his voice, no one spoke about it. Iemitsu let Tsuna down after placing a kiss on his forehead.

“Go, you need to eat breakfast.”

“Ok. See you, dad!”

Reborn left a folder on the desk before leading the boy out. As soon as the door closed, repressed anger shot out of the young father and Nono held back a sigh.

“Before you start, let me tell you that I couldn’t have you rampaging throughout Italy to search for Tsunayoshi. My choice has been taken considering your personality and our need to keep everything hidden. We needed to avoid information leak and we took care of the whole thing in silence.”

“You didn’t tell me my son had been _kidnapped_!!”

Timoteo sighed this time. He’d never heard the CEDEF’s Boss so furious.

“Please, understand. Tsunayoshi is safe now.”

“He could have been _dead_ and I would have known only when it was already _too_ _late_!!”

“I had to–“

“NO! Tsuna is MY son! You have _no_ _right_ to hide such a thing from ME! I have already lost my _wife_ without even _knowing_ , do not take my _son_ away from me!!”

The laboured breath’s puffs from Iemitsu were the only sounds disturbing the following, stunned silence. His face was red and his eyes almost glassy. His fists were clenched at his sides, blood dripping from one hand. Nono blinked repeatedly, thinking about what had just been said and… finding everything right.

The images of his two dead sons flashed in his eyes. Enrico, shot multiple times and again after his death, to be sure he was really passed. Matsumo, drowned in the Adriatic Sea with concrete shoes, blue, cold, unmoving. How would he react knowing someone had withheld information about Federico, still MIA?

He massaged his forehead slowly, looking down. “I apologize.” He spoke softly. "You’re right, I… I acted as a Boss before thinking as a father.” He fell on the armchair in front of the library with a grave expression.

Iemitsu took a deep, long breath, pinching the bridge of his nose with closed eyes. “I shouldn’t have yelled… I apologize, too, Nono. I’m…”

“We both need to rest, after this… I take it your Intuition kept you awake for two days.”

The blonde nodded absently, brushing a hand on his face. “I’ll borrow a room, if you don’t mind.”

“But of course, be my guest.”

Timoteo waved at him, waiting for the door to close again, before standing and opening Reborn’s folder. His eyes widened, fury and sadness filling his whole being at what was written on the first page. He barely nodded when the hitman came in again without knocking.

“… Is this true?”

“It is. We found the mass graves scattered around the facilities. I haven’t called the police yet.”

Vongola Nono felt more years suddenly weigh on his shoulders. “We will when we’ll be sure we’ve taken everything remotely useful to use against Estraneo. For now, I’ll ask my Guardians to identify the survived children and send them home.”

“Regarding that, there’s one little girl Tsuna has asked about.”

He looked up. “Go on.”

“I’ve sent a maid to collect her from another one of your safehouses, she is the kid’s, Mukuro, sister.”

Timoteo nodded. “Very well, something else?”

Reborn sighed. “My colleagues, Fon and Verde, want to stay for the time being. I think they’ve been burned by this whole ordeal. One is well-versed in martial arts, he offered to train the guards – and they _need_ it. Verde, instead, is a scientist. He wants to use your laboratories to study that lion cub and Tsuna’s Flames. He is currently studying a device to track him down through them.”

“I’ll consider it, though I see nothing against them…” He smiled. “I wonder how Tsunayoshi managed to befriend them, knowing you, but… Someone will tell me, maybe I’ll ask the child himself.”

Reborn smirked. “You’ll be surprised. There’s also Fon’s nephew, Hibari Kyouya. He’s a Cloud that has almost bonded with Tsuna.”

“I see… Like Hayato, I suppose.”

“And the Mukuro kid.”

“Reborn… These things aside… I want you to check on Tsunayoshi.”

The hitman turned serious immediately. “I will, but not yet. He is trying to be strong for his friends, I’ll wait for the evening to fall. Anyway…” He paused. “Go to the last page of that folder, Timoteo.”

Nono did. And silently gasped. Mute tears slid down his old skin.

“I’ll take my leave.”

Federico, too, had left this world… Once more, the father has to bury the son… Sometimes, Nono regretted accepting the mantle from his mother, with every fibre of his fragile, old body.

 

When the night finally fell and all the kids were tucked to sleep, Reborn walked alone through the corridors to check on everyone. Door after door, almost all left open. The Hibari kid had claimed a tree outside the Sky’s window, with his little animals. Verde and Fon had taken the rooms at its sides. Mukuro, with his two friends and sister, the room right opposite. Every child was sleeping, out like a candle. Hayato had fallen asleep in Tsuna’s room shamelessly, lion cub curled against his stomach, and had been sent home to his father. Varia had gone back to its mansion with several prisoners and the ghosts had happily accompanied them, though Daemon and Viper had stayed nearby. The first probably because of the file magically disappeared from the hitman’s folder about the experiments done on Mukuro, a Mist Flame user and Estraneo’s heir. The second because he wanted to know why there were now four Arcobaleno in the mansion, all revolving around Tsuna. Lal was still at CEDEF.

Light snores all over the mansion made Reborn sigh and go take up the beverages a maid had brewed. He climbed the stairs and stopped in front of the door. And waited.

In all the months the hitman had journeyed around the world with his student, he had learnt what happens when Tsuna sleeps… Especially when he feels safe, after a taxing experience. With a deep breath, he pushed the door open and closed it behind. The man walked to the bed, left the mugs on the bedside table, and sat at the edge of the sheets. The lion cub was sitting on the pillow, tail silently whipping the air and gleaming amber eyes seizing him up.

Reborn turned on the little lamp to a simmer light and looked at the thrashing around child, knowing even too well what was going on in those nightmares. They never changed.

Tsuna’s forehead was wet from sweat, strands of hair glued to the skin. His eyes were closed tightly, his hands clenched the sheets to the point that the knuckles were white, his lips were bruised and fat tears kept flowing on his cheeks without stop. Reborn recalled the past times this had happened and didn’t remember it had ever been so bad.

He thought against touching him to calm him down. It could cause the opposite, as in Tsuna not waking up completely and considering the hitman as the ‘enemy’. He took the mug filled with hot chocolate and took a spoon, blowing on it some before hovering it near Tsuna’s nose. The aroma usually helped keeping the brunette’s nightmares at bay. The boy had once told him it was because his mother always brewed him some after something bad happened.

In fact, his thrashing slowly stopped… But not the tears. Reborn left the spoon in the mug and let his Sun Flames free in the room. The boy’s eyes opened, wide and frantically looking around. The hitman didn’t move an inch, feeling the Sky Flames disperse in the air, checking every crevice for anything remotely threatening. It was lucky for them that Tsuna didn’t do that during his sleep… The mansion would have turned into crisps long ago. These nightmares had started after coming back from China. He still didn’t know what had triggered them.

The Flames went back. The breathing calmed down. The tears stopped leaking. Tsuna slowly sat up, bringing a hand to his face, covering his eyes. Reborn silently offered him the mug and took his own, drinking his espressino. He only had to wait now.

The brunette swallowed nothing, circling the mug with his hands, cradling it and probably searching for heat. He sighed once, then took a short sip. And a second. Minutes ticked by. The boy wasn’t sweating anymore. The lion cub wasn’t trying to get near, simply watching over them from the other bedside table.

“… Sorry, Reborn… and thank you…”

“You don’t need to apologize. It’s not your fault.” _Though… damn, whatever._ “Just don’t pull something like this again.”

“I’ll try…” That small smile was already a big improvement.

“Now talk.”

Tsuna’s lips thinned, his eyes looked away, but he knew he had to. It was their agreement. The hitman would help him during these times, the brunette would unwind. Yes, there was no gain for Reborn, nothing that could be touched, anyway.

“Just memories… Cages aren’t good for me, I think.”

“Didn’t notice.” He rolled his eyes, making Tsuna chuckle shortly.

“Yes… I just…” He paused, clutching again his hands on the sheets. “I was scared that… They didn’t get to do anything to me, but…”

“It’s fine to be scared, Tsuna.” Reborn left the half-empty cup on the bedside table and put his hands on his lap. “You have every right to be scared, I’ve already told you this.”

“I-I know, but–“

“And you’ve been brave enough to not show it to your friends…” Tsuna looked up to meet his gaze. “The ones you want to protect.” There was a flash of gold in those orbs. “Am I wrong?”

The boy’s eyes moved down, then he shook his head. “They… They need, I think… A family.”

“Everyone needs a family, Tsuna.”

The other softly arched a brow, as in: you don’t mean it. He could understand the thought.

“Yes, me, too. I’m here, after all.” The brunette blinked. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to.”

There were some seconds of pure silence, in which Reborn could almost hear the sound of his own words drop and sink. He didn’t regret them, though.

The rewarding smile was all worth them.

“Thank you.”

“… Whatever. Go to sleep.”

“And Natsu…?”

Reborn silently counted till ten. “Who. Is. Natsu.”

Tsuna, as an answer, took up the cub and held him to the hitman. “Meet Natsu.”

The lion showed his tongue shortly, making a tick mark appear under his fedora. They both knew what was going to happen, thanks to _recent_ events.

“… He can stay.”

Tsuna’s yelp of joy resounded through the room.

 

Tortures had been Xanxus’ hobby for years. Of course, there were reasons why he could tolerate his Guardians, one being they agreed on the pastime. Add that a cared for young boy had recently conquered their cold hearts – he had no problem admitting it to himself –, eagerness didn’t cover their deep interest in the medieval and modern arts anymore.

Rage was liberating. Rage made people want to kill. But, unfortunately for Estraneo and the mercenaries, Varia was not simply irate. Neither was Xanxus.

They were standing in the room with different degrees of coldness and disgust. Squalo was snarling openly, arms crossed to stop his desire to start the torture immediately. Belphegor was sharpening his knives, something he never did in front of others because it made him too focused and he lost his mad smirk. Levi was not standing at his side, as usual, but the farthest from him, probably thinking that he didn’t want his Boss to see him losing his cool. Lussuria, out of them, was the calmest… He was a Sun, Suns do not know the meaning of ‘calm’ – Reborn didn’t count.

Xanxus held back a sigh and eyed the wall through which the ghosts had disappeared, muttering something among themselves. He’d heard a name, but it wasn’t his priority at the moment. He detached from the table he was leaning on and unfolded his arms. Instantly, tension grew in the room of the basement in Varia’s mansion. He took off his cloak, leaving it on a chair, then eyed and touched the feathers on his chest, tied to his nape.

_“Is that a tail, Xanxus-nii?”_

_“… I don’t know. … It’s the only thing left from my grandmother, I didn’t get to ask her what it is.”_

_“Oh… It suits you, you know?”_

_“The tail?”_

_“Red. Those feathers reminds me of a phoenix. I read in a book that they are birds of fire. When they fall, they come back even stronger.”_

_“… I’m not a bird, brat.”_

He still remembered the giggle coming right after. Xanxus played with a feather and his determination became steel. He turned to the unconscious scientists. A man with glasses, a woman with short purple hair and two twins with long beards. The lab coats were torn, bloodied and black, burned by the Flames that had enveloped the first facility they had raided.

Xanxus nodded to the buckets in one corner. Lussuria, Levi and Belphegor took the three items and didn’t wait. They dumped the water on the scientists – and no one addressed the little sparks on the puddle forming on the floor. Screams and yelps greeted their ears… that was only the beginning.

The Varia Boss sat on the chair, gracefully crossing one leg on the other, and observed the scums in front of him. Confused, the shits. They didn’t deserve an explanation for their current position. They didn’t deserve time to understand. They only deserved the worst.

They had touched the _wrong_ _brat_.

“Tell me the location of your Boss.”

One of the twins, an old man going bald – the other had not the same problem –, blinked and bared his teeth. “Go ea–“

Squalo punched his face, causing one tooth to fly against the wall and blood to stain the grey floor.

“It was not a question, fucktard.”

It had been a long time since Xanxus had heard his Rain be vulgar. Not that he’d missed it, especially in the Vongola mansion.

“The location.”

“You won’t get anything from u–“

A sharp knife flew past the other twin, a thick strand of black hair falling slowly to his lap. “I missed.” No madness, no bloodlust, just coldness.

“Do not miss next time.”

“Sure thing Boss.”

Xanxus stood, turned to the table behind him, hidden from the scientists, and swept his eyes over his collection. He’s always preferred the old ways, priests knew how to do things well back then. Maybe they used it the wrong way, because they forced confessions out of normal girls suspected of being witches, but, in his hands… Vongola had never had problems in acquiring intel.

He moved a finger on the one that made women and men a whimpering and screaming mess, but discarded it as a last resort. He had a method, start from the most stubborn one. In this case, the first to go down had to be the bravest… as in, the first that had talked back and seemed ready to start spouting some nonsense everyone else in that room – not tied up – would have ignored. He nodded to Levi, that knew how he worked. Each of his Guardians did.

The Lightning took the man from the floor and unlocked the chains from the wall, yanking him to the centre. Immediately, the idiot stood and tried to attack Xanxus. Squalo stopped him with two kicks at his legs, making a bone crack and the man scream with gritted teeth, one missing.

Xanxus didn’t like to see that. He had to fix it.

Levi grabbed the man from the back of his coat. The Varia Boss took the blood-stained crowbar and swung it against the man’s face, holding back his strength. Three times. The skull had probably cracks by then and several haemorrhages, internal and external. Sun Flames flared and healed the wounds, fooling the brain. It was a useful trick. They caused wounds, the brain sent the pain, but healing them so fast didn’t give it time to stop the feeling, so the pain lingered, and their guest would continue suffering without dying.

“Your tongue will loosen, or you will die painfully, trash.”

“If you talk, you’ll suffer less… Uhmmm… Don’t talk, ok?”

“Prince has to agree, make this enjoyable, peasants. We’re in for a loooong session.”

“Voooiii, you better desire death.”

“Can I go first, Boss?”

Xanxus only nodded. It was time for the bravest, to make the others see and project the pain on themselves. Then, it was only a way to deal with their mute ire. Viper would join them once he dealt with his things about the new kid.

These scumbags were going to regret making Vongola their enemy.

 

Reborn massaged his forehead after closing the door of Tsuna’s room, leaving the boy deeply asleep and finally calmer. He sighed, leaning against the wall and looking up at Fon. His colleague was poking his head through the door of his room, looking at him with narrowed eyes.

“How is he?”

Nice question. “Sleeping.” Fon simply hummed. “Have you started your nephew on the bonds?”

The martial artist closed his eyes and sighed. “You know well that getting Kyouya to sit down and learn is quite impossible, if not with your student by his side. Even then, he falls asleep… Why are you asking me this, Reborn?”

He looked away, towards Verde’s door. “Tsuna needs Guardians.” He detached from the wall and knocked twice, getting a grunt. He opened and let himself and Fon in, closing the door again. “He is vulnerable.” The scientist was sitting at a desk, mountains of messy papers on it. “I can’t always protect him.” He sat at one of the armchair, nursing his headache. “And he can’t protect himself from these kinds of things.”

“It’s not like Kyouya is stronger than us.” Fon frowned.

“But he can make Tsuna stronger.”

Verde turned in his chair, the wolf and Keiman sitting at his sides. “Explain, full story.”

Reborn eyed the scientist with an unreadable gaze. He crossed his arms and silently sighed, sweeping his eyes away. “The trauma Tsuna has is still too strong for him to deal with it alone.”

“I fear my picture of things is lacking some pieces.” Fon said.

“I mentioned he’s been abducted as a child… and abused. Some weeks after leaving China, he began having nightmares. I know how to calm him, by now, but tonight…” He gritted his teeth. “The recent events have worsened the situation.” His eyes narrowed. “And those shits are still roaming the planet, right now.”

Some moments of silence passed before Fon spoke again. “How does this relate to Kyouya and Guardians?”

Reborn scowled. Then brushed a hand on his face. “Tsuna isn’t one to think of himself. He prefers putting others first, as you’ve seen yesterday. He kept everything hidden for the new kid.”

“Mist.”

He nodded at Verde. “He can’t protect himself from memories and… these events, but he will if it’s to protect others.”

“Oh.” Fon hummed.

“And a Sky will surely benefit from bonding with his Elements.”

The hitman looked up at Verde. “What have you found out?”

He pushed up his glasses and took some papers to look through. “I’ve studied the samples from our raid against the Triads to the best of my equipment here. There happened to be two Skies. One with two and one with four bonds. The most I’ve found out is that the first’s Flames were weaker. It could be that a Sky without bonds is at his weakest, but I’ll need more researches to be sure.”

“I see… I’ll have a talk with Kyouya about it.”

“Have it now, he’s at the window.”

Fon turned and shook his head with a soft smile. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“Carnivores.” On the windowsill, the young boy was sitting with his arms folded and his back to the wall. “The little animal.”

The three Arcobaleno looked at each other, silently throwing the issue around. In the end, the martial artist sighed and approached his nephew, stopping two steps away.

“Kyouya, what do you remember about Flames?”

As an answer, the boy lifted a hand and his Flames took over, lapping at his skin almost contentedly. Reborn was ready to swear they inched to the right, towards Tsuna’s room.

“I mentioned bonds and the Elements, right?”

He nodded. The yellow bird on his head chirped once… If that could be considered a chirp.

“What do you feel when you’re with Tsunayoshi?”

The Cloud Flames around his hand brightened and grew, clearly showing the direction they wanted to take. “Warm.” He looked at them with… amused eyes. “Home.” He played with his fingers and lit his other hand. “Mine.”

Reborn slowly moved his glare to Fon, that flinched and had a troubled expression. “What do you mean when you say ‘mine’, Kyouya?”

Surprisingly, the boy didn’t answer immediately. He observed his Flames, toning them down as they slowly dispersed. He flexed his fingers, then smirked.

“He’s my Sky.”

That said, as if proud of his own words, Kyouya yawned and jumped back on the tree. Stunned silence followed.

Reborn didn’t know how to deal with Tsuna-related things anymore.

Fon was wondering when exactly had his nephew become so much like his brother – thing that both warmed his insides and frightened him.

Verde silently went back to his studies, simply content that Tsunayoshi would have such a strong Cloud to rely on… Better yet, he had to study the boy, his Flames, the brunette’s Flames, and then again after the bond actually happened. Knowing Tsunayoshi and his past, Reborn may have planned this but it was far from happening. In the meantime, he had to build that device that tracked Flames.

 

Pain. Darkness. Corpses’ smell.

Everything was blurry and clear at the same time. He needed to get out of there before they noticed. He had to escape as soon as they went back to retrieve another victim. Sounds of heavy breaths and rustling of leaves and hasty footsteps on the fresh mud were all he could hear.

He waited. He waited until the only sounds were those of the thick forest he’d seen at the very beginning of this nightmare. He waited and waited… and then he had to move. _Quick. Go. Run! Get out of here!!_

His back was heavy. Bodies were all over him, his breath caught up to his agitation, his blood flooded his ears, making them beat as if his heart was in his head, and he knew there was no way he could hear distinctly anymore. He put his bloody and wounded hands on the corpse under him – a boy, a _fucking child, goddamnit!_ He pushed and pushed and pushed on the soft, dirty and torn skin with all the strength he had left. There had to be at least three bodies scattered on his own because it took everything out of him to finally lift his torso…

He held back the tears and tried to scroll them off. It took him five try’s. The sounds of skin on skin was far and muffled. He knelt and stood in robotic movements. The only thing keeping him going was his will.

He looked around, blinking repeatedly, and quickly found a way out of the ditch. He stepped on the corpses towards the shortest of the walls. He put his hands on the dirt and pushed again. His body was weak, but thinner. He heaved it up after what seemed hours of thundering pain. Everything hurt.

Tiredness started to hit him, ignoring the adrenaline at the thought of getting caught. He stubbornly stood, panting heavily, and looked right and left. Through his blurry vision, he could see torches’ lights on his left. He ran to the right. His legs were like rocks, wounded, bleeding, he stumbled more than once on roots and mud.

Twigs snapping and animals fleeing were all he could register. He didn’t know how much he ran, but, when he stopped, it was because he couldn’t go on anymore. His legs literally gave up and he fell face-first in the mud. Through his blurred vision, he saw trees still around him, though they seemed less thick.

He lost consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you wanna know who's next? Really?
> 
> Well... It's hidden in this chap, ya know?
> 
> Still wanna?
> 
> Fiiine...!
> 
> Next chapter, be ready to welcome...
> 
> Simon's Famiglia!
> 
> Hope you liked this! See ya!


	14. 12 – Simon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... It's been a long time, huh? I'd like to apologize, but, at the same time, I warned you the updates would be slow and it took me a lot to put this chap together.
> 
> I personally think this chapter lacks, content-wise. Maybe there was too much to talk about and I ended up talking about nothing at all? I just know that this probably won’t be the last chap about Simon, I have few ideas… Apologies if the chap disappoints you, someway, but I did my current best.
> 
> Also... Too. Many. Words. Almost 10k! Now you may understand why it took me so long. First of all, it was not just one character, but six. I had a very hard time trying to figure out each of them and their personalities, mainly because they’re not that known through the manga (unlike Varia).
> 
> Words: 9909.
> 
> Enjoy!

The calm sound of waves gently washing the beach always relaxed him. Enma was not known for being calm… or collected… or confident…

…

Well, he was a lot of negative things.

With a deep sigh, he remembered his most recent conversation with Adelheid. Uhm, it had been more of a scolding, though. She liked to do that a lot. Like, every day. Yeah, well, not because she… ehm… She was just worried.

Yet…

Enma pushed his hands in the pants’ pockets and kicked a pebble on the gravel path. He knew she was right… He was the Boss, they were in hiding, Vongola was on the move… Maybe they were behind that thing that had happened at Julie, the memory loss, the strange behaviour. Who knew… Could be everything, maybe Vongola was not to blame, for once…

He scratched his nape and his shoulders slumped forward even more. A Boss… Him? He was not good at that… Giving orders, leading their group, exacting revenge… Yeah, th-the past, what Vongola had done to their predecessors, everything was bad and they… They were forced to hide in this little island, scared that they could be wiped out at any given moment, that someone–

Enma took a long breath, closing his eyes and stopping his walk. He was doing that thing again, haip-hyp-pervant…. _That thing_.

The boy brushed his hands on his face and sighed once more, saddened by how he… how he was. Scared, insecure, anxious, unable to take decisions, unable to protect them… Forced to stay still as his family–

The Sin.

Everything revolved around it.

The betrayal, the deaths of their predecessors, the need to hide, to train and be wary of everything. A mantra he’d memorized long ago, a reminder of why they had to hit Vongola, a prayer for happier times to come… And _yet_.

Enma combed his messy hair and fell on his butt, legs crossed and hands on the knees. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t… Yes, it was needed, because they just… they just couldn’t go on hiding on their island, Julie couldn’t keep on shielding their home with his Flames forever – the illusions had also weakened a lot lately… –, the family members couldn’t always go to the country nearby to restock by _stealing_ , they couldn’t…

It was not right.

At the same time… What term had Julie used… Raiding, maybe? Raiding Vongola at their weakest, when Nono was nearing his elderly years, and there was no sure heir… Taking back the Sin, strike their enemy and resurface from the shadows… It seemed something so _big_ and _important_ …

Enma was not cut out for such a thing.

_“Then what? Stay here? Alone? Separated from the world? Is this what you want for your family?”_

Because that was the point, wasn’t it.

His family. His first worry. His first _duty_. His most important…

He buried his face in his hands and swallowed a wail. What was he supposed to do?

Protecting his family was the priority, what he treasured the most. It was why he kept up this inner struggle in the first place. It was what his parents always repeated to him: family first. And it was what he wanted, on his own, without being told.

But… what was this revenge going to give them? Freedom? Peace? He… He was not so sure about it.

Wouldn’t it be at the expense of someone else? Who knew if they were like their ancestors? Like Vongola Primo? Betrayers, uncaring, cruel… They were supposed to be best friends, then…

Enma hit his cheeks lightly and stood – almost falling back on his butt. The same thoughts, the same insecurities, the same questions every single day. It was tiring. He wanted some peace, so he started again walking to the beach. The waves’ gentle sounds reached his ears once more, breaking through his mind, and he managed to smile a bit.

Earth Element, wasn’t he? He liked the ocean. He liked this island. He felt peaceful, living in the little house they had built together. There was only happiness in there, when Adel wasn’t trying to pinpoint him towards revenge. The few left men aside his Guardians – he still wasn’t exactly fine with this, with… the idea of _subordinates_ – did not seem in need for a change, they had their boats and liked fishing while some had their animals and liked farming. It was a small island, but it gave them the… what were those called… first necessities. The problem was with clothes, for example, or paper, or books… Things like that, impossible to make themselves.

His feet finally found sand, so Enma took off his shoes to better feel the comfy grains. He slowed his pace, making his way down through a small passage in the cliff to the clean beach. Happy squeals reached his ears and he smiled. There was nothing and no one that better calmed him down than hearing his little sister playing thoughtlessly, alive, safe.

The sea came into view and sprays of water hit his face, making him shiver slightly. The morning sea was really cold. Enma, however, froze as soon as he saw Mami playing with an animal. There were no strays or wild ones on the island, so what…

He approached her as silently as possible – which was not silent at all, but the sand helped – and circled her to–

He paled.

How– Wha– No!

“Stay back!!”

He had scooped up his sister before he could think about doing it.

What turned out to be a lion cub looked at them with… with…

“Brother! Natsu’s my new friend!” Mami yelled with a giggle.

Enma was everything but happy or amused.

A _lion_ , dear God!

“Ma-Mami, that’s…”

A growl made him gulp. And take a wide step back. The cub was still sitting down on the sand, unperturbed and… was that an _arched brow_?

“I found the shells… Oh, hi!”

A boy he’d never seen before – yet seemed familiar, somehow – waved at them with an easy smile. He, however, didn’t try to approach them more from his spot, bare feet on the shore. The cub, instead, perked up and went to the brown-haired boy, jumping in his awaiting arms and… and _snuggling_ into the embrace.

Enma was speechless and completely panicking.

Who was this boy? What was he doing on the island? How did he come there? … A _lion cub_?!?

“Brother?”

Mami’s voice made the young Boss flinch and take a step back. He swallowed, steeling himself for what could turn out to be a fight. His top priority was his sister, protective instincts kicking out fiercely in his mind. The ring on his finger glowed for an instant, but he didn’t notice.

“Who are you?” His voice came out a bit shaky, but less than he expected it to.

The boy’s smile didn’t fall as he tilted his head to the side. “Tsuna. My uncle brought me here for a little vacation.”

There were more?! Enma looked around and tried to focus his senses like Koyo had explained – more like scolded – him to. He didn’t know if he was doing it right, but he couldn’t feel anything.

“Oh, no! He’s gone back!” The other giggled. “You know, my family… If they find out I’m missing, my uncle will need to hinder them, someway.”

Enma stilled. “… why…”

Tsuna just smiled more. “I think he wants to make amends.” Then he hunched forward and shielded his mouth with one hand. “Don’t tell him that, he might go back to being prideful.”

“… I don’t follow.”

“He’s a friend!” Mami exclaimed happily. “Tsuna helped me with the sand castle while we were waiting for you!”

Enma gulped, just then noticing the pretty building decorated with some shells. “O-oh… Uhm…”

Tsuna still didn’t move, petting the cub while holding on the decorative items. “I understand your worry. If you have questions, be my guest.”

Well… “T-that’s… a lion?”

The beast growled loudly, making Enma flinch. “Yes.” Tsuna chuckled. “We met in a zoo, do you remember, Natsu?” The lion closed his eyes and bumped his head against the boy’s. “Yeah, it was love at first sight. My dad noticed and gave him to me to take care of.”

…

 _What kind of father does that_.

Was the only thought numbing his mind.

“Not conventional, but he does his best.” Tsuna continued. “He still thinks he needs forgiveness–” He stopped, lips forming a pensive, thin line. He quickly shook his head and the smile was back. “Anyway, what else?”

Enma gulped again. He tried to make order in his head, letting Mami go. A thought struck him.

“Have we… met before?”

Tsuna’s smile became toothy. His sister went up to him and Natsu – the lion – jumped on her head, making her giggle – and his brother had a quick heart attack.

“I don’t think so. I just resemble Vongola Primo, that’s all.”

Enma froze again. The dots connected in his head on their own.

“Yes… I’m his descendant.” Tsuna’s voice was more serious, lower. “I’m not here for revenge or anything, but to clear a bad misunderstanding.” And nearer, Enma flinched back, his eyes checking that Mami was still alright. She was playing with the sand and the lion, thoughtlessly. “Are you… willing to listen?”

This time, he noticed the tone was not like when Adelheid wanted to be listened to, but wary… unsure, like when Enma tried to think with his mind and came up empty-handed. He looked up at Tsuna, the boy being even nearer, but still a good way away, as if… giving him space. Natsu, the lion cub, was not with his sister anymore, but behind the brunette’s legs, sitting and licking his paw.

And hadn’t he just had another of those unending, useless debate in his head? About what-if’s and whatnot and insecurities lurking freely in his mind… Did he want to listen to… to a boy that was… that was his enemy? His… _enemy_ …

“Yes. Tell me.”

His eyes, unknown to him, cleared of their unnatural compass pattern for an instant. Tsuna smiled kindly, sat on the sand and patted the spot beside him. Enma gulped, fidgeting some before obliging, making sure his sister was still in his eyesight.

“It’s a story from many years ago.” The brunette started, looking at the ocean. Enma did the same, listening carefully. “It was a time long gone, a lot different from this era. Everything started with a young woman dying, stealing a promise from a man that was falling into despair…”

Tsuna’s voice was soothing, warm, kind and calm. Like a lullaby, like a bard signing a story… Enma had once heard a tale with the aid of an instrument… This was better, inexplicably.

“He thought that making his family stronger meant eradicating the weaker allies. He thought he was doing a good thing. He was lost.”

Why was he smiling? This man’s story was sad… It was making his sister cry like he’d never seen her since… Since the fire…

“He made a mistake. He is the author of the Sin.”

Enma flinched, his stomach churned and his eyes went wide. A… A single man? Wasn’t Vongola…?

“But his family was there for him, and for its allies. They saved their dear friends, hiding it from the man.”

His mind went blank.

“They signed a pact: if their descendants ever fought each other again, they were to face trials and their true memories.”

By then, Enma just listened, gaping.

“But the man believed in his version. He planted the seed of insecurity on the second generation of the allies, that had been forced to flee and hide. He planned for the two families to fight and, in his opinion, make Vongola stronger and stronger.” Tsuna’s smile brightened. “But then, many years later, he encountered a little devil.”

Simon Decimo blinked. “Huh?”

The brunette giggled. “Yes, all his plans were thrown out the window. He was shown what his beloved wife really meant with her stolen promise. He was shown true strength… Or, well, so my Grandpa likes to say.” He grinned. “Anyway, if you want a proof of what I’m saying, I can show you.” His smile turned… he didn’t know. Angelic, no. Evil, no. Up to something, yes.

“H-how?” He’d just stuttered…

Tsuna lifted his right hand and pointed the index at Enma’s Ring. “Have you ever used your Flames?”

Worst subject ever… He wanted the sand to swallow him instantly. The Ring of Simon…

“I take it you tried but didn’t succeed.” He could only nod. “It means you’re mistaking something.” The other hummed. “I don’t like this, but let’s give it a try.”

Enma then discovered that what Tsuna didn’t like was, for him, plainly _horrible_.

The brunette nodded to Natsu, that walked to the crying Mami… but started growing.

With Flames.

And his sister paled.

The lion growled.

Everything around Enma slowed down. Memories of that night, that fear, that loss overlapped the image of an adult lion approaching his scared and trembling sister like watermark. His parents lost in the fire, deep within the house, silent, burnt, black, unmoving, _dead_. His sister shivering, cowering from the approaching lion that growled, showing his huge teeth and causing a strangled whimper from the child. The flames, lapping at the wood, the furniture, the corpses, the curtains, the smoke-filled corridor that he used to get Mami and himself out of the blazing inferno. The Flames, a bright and see-through orange that was the mane of the beast, that drew a circle around the small girl, tall walls of crackling fire looming over her and closing on her like a hanging chord, bleeding glass on the sand. Hot, scorching, devouring, unforgiving.

No.

His sister would _not_ die like their parents.

Enma suddenly felt air hit his face and Mami was in his arms in an instant. They were on the other side of the circle of fire, unscathed, safe, cool. The flames immediately disappeared and Enma actually shrieked… because the lion cub was in his little sister’s arms, yawning.

WHAT?!

“Ah, sorry, it was an illusion. I wouldn’t have caused your sister a trauma for anything in the world. But, well, it worked. Thanks, Uncle Daemon.”

The Simon Boss just swallowed, but it didn’t go well as his throat was dry. Mami giggled at him and jumped out of his hug to go back to her castle. And then he shrieked again.

There were white tendrils of _something_ floating around in the air.

“G-g-g-gh-ghosts?!?!”

Tsuna _giggled_. Tsuna… _giggled_!

“Now, let me lend you a hand.” That smile was everything but _innocent_.

He didn’t have time to just flee from this alien presence because a sudden… a sudden… _warmth_ – accepting-kind-trust me-it’s going to be okay – enveloped him and… and the _ghosts_ became _clear._ Seven of them were hovering on the sand, looking lost and surprised. One of them… One of them…

“What…”

“Your ancestor.” Tsuna _smiled_. “Cozarto Simon, if I remember correctly.”

Enma’s look-alike turned to the brunette, mouth drawing a thin line. “Giotto.”

“His many-times-grandson. Pleasure to meet you, Simon Primo, I’m Tsuna.”

Enma felt panic rise in every fibre of his body and he knew there were hysteric tears at the corners of his eyes. He just fainted.

 

Adelheid tapped her fingers on the table of the cosy kitchen with a sad frown, munching on an ice cube. She hated fighting with Enma. She hated this conflict over the rise of their Famiglia. Why couldn’t the boy just _understand_? They couldn’t go on like that, hiding and surviving off of thievery. Their island was too small and Kato’s Illusion was slowly but surely fading. They had no more time…

She stood, took a jacket and laid it on her shoulders, heading to the beach. They had to wrap up this situation. It couldn’t go unattended to any longer. She knew Enma hated fighting, hated using strength to get things done… That was why she was willing to carry everything herself, but the boy was their Boss, he just _had_ to have a part in it. Vongola was evil, they had betrayed the Simon’s and they had to pay for it.

Adel waved at Rauji, that was drawing something in the shade of a tree. The male smiled at her and nodded towards the beach with a worried frown. Enma had passed by and had probably not even seen him because of their fight. Nice…

She fastened her pace. She was doing this because she loved her family, not for fun. Enma had to understand, this was necessary. And no, Vongola was not _good_ , because she knew the young boy’s doubts and overthinking mind. Those trashes were traitors that hadn’t thought twice before betraying them and nearly killing them all.

A shift in the air made her pause and turn to the left– A tick mark appeared on her temple.

“Stop it Kato, it’s not funny.”

There was the figure of a beautiful woman clad in a kimono hovering above the ground, scrutinizing Adel as she herself would have if this had not been an obvious illusion. The see-through female just faded after a few seconds with a pleased smile. She had to admit, the woman resembled her a lot with those long black hair, that Adel preferred to keep tied in a high ponytail, and those sharp red eyes.

“I though your Illusions were weakening. Worry about the barrier, idiot.”

She continued on her way with a shrug. The salty breeze soon caressed her cheeks and she walked down the path from the rocky hill to the sandy beach.

“Are you sure? I think my brother will faint again…” _Mami?_

“No no, he’ll like it, don’t worry!”

Adel was rushing to the siblings before blinking, a knife in her hand and frantic fear in her mind. She was stopped and yanked back when something took hold of her arms and tied them behind her back. She seethed but tried to analyse the situation.

Enma was on the sand, unconscious, pale, troubled, his head on Mami’s lap. The girl was surprised, looking at her with confusion and slight amusement. At her side was a boy with brown hair going in every direction and… caramel eyes unnaturally sharp in someone so young. His smile was calm and kind. Then, there was a lion cub licking its paw and getting scratches from Mami.

She wanted to know if this was an Illusion.

“Adel! Hi! Meet Tsuna and Natsu, our new friends!”

 _Mami…_ “H-hi.” She tested her wrists but they were tied _tightly_.

“Hello.” He smiled again. “I think you can let her go, Uncle Alaude.”

 _A-Aloude?!?_ The pressure on her arms disappeared and she stumbled forward, clenching and unclenching her fingers.

“Sorry, try not to attack me, please. I mean no harm.”

Her shoulders suddenly felt warm and she fell on her knees, confused beyond beliefs. Just what was going on?!

A pop sound came from her left and she had to clamp her mouth shut to not shriek. Simon Primo was looking at her with an arched brow and crossed arms. She paled. Kato was going overboard with these–

“It’s not an illusion, Miss. Meet the ancestor of your Boss.” The boy named Tsuna said with a _smile_.

“Pleased to meet you, I see our descendants really look like us.” Cozarto Simon moved his gaze on the brunette with a scowl. “Does that mean there’s a mini-Daemon, somewhere?”

Tsuna chuckled. “Mukuro, but he’s not going on that path anytime soon.” His eyes gleamed.

Cozarto nodded thoughtfully. “I guess you’re here to right the wrongs.”

The brunette nodded twice. “Grandpa told me to do this in his stead while he takes care of some problems.”

Adel looked at Mami for help. The girl just kept playing with the lion cub while combing her brother’s hair.

“Problems…?”

“I think they want me away so that they can hunt down every survivor of the group that kidnapped me a week ago.”

Cozarto flinched. “Excuse me?”

Tsuna shrugged. “Children and animals were saved, so I’m not complaining. Anyway…” He turned to a very baffled Adel with another smile. “As I was saying, this man is a true ghost summoned by Enma when he used his Flames some minutes ago.”

“Flames…?!” He had been trying for months without results!

“Yeah… you just didn’t know what his resolve was.” His eyes became distant and dull for a moment, before focusing back on her. “I’m here because Vongola Primo, my ancestor, wants to clear things out with Simon’s.”

She gritted her teeth, not attacking him only because of the very much real threat of being tied up by something she didn’t understand. “Clear things out?!” She almost spat.

Tsuna just nodded. “Vongola didn’t betray Simon.” He looked down at Enma, ignoring how Adel had just flinched. “But let’s wait for your Boss to wake up, ok?”

… If this was a nightmare, she wanted it to end.

 

Damn, he definitely had to restock. He’d thought this one was new, but he instantly recognized the first image and grew bored by the third. There was his favourite model, too, but he’d seen this particular shot at least four times – as in, he had analysed and memorized every tiny details.

Pervert as he may be – and hot, of course, because he was one hell of a _hot_ guy, so hot to dry an ocean –, Julie liked curves and especially generous bosoms. Also, looking doesn’t harm anyone, and keeps the nights full. He closed the magazine and hid it in his library, hopping out of the room through the window. He adjusted his hat to shield his eyes from the sun and decided that observing Adel would be the best choice. She was growing up _handsomely_. God bless women.

He skipped Rauji, that was still dumbly attached to that sketch book – they really ought to go on –, and jumped off the tree the large boy was leaning on. He landed with a flourish, imagining curvy females cheering him on and approaching him for autographs. With closed eyes, he signed the papers and skin presented to him in one of his wild scenarios. If it only came true…

With a bow to emptiness, Julie clapped his hands once and checked where he’d landed. Quite a way away from the house, only a dozen strides to the path that linked the beach to the main road. His eyes sharpened as he remembered digging it with his own feet, carrying everyone from the joke of a boat he’d stolen from Italy’s coasts to the rundown building their home had once been. He recalled, as if it had been the day before, the struggle to nurse Mami back to health, to keep Adel calm, to make Rauji stop crawling into a corner, to get Shit.P off the wall, to dam Kaoru’s tears, to snap Koyo out of his daze… To keep Enma rooted.

A soft breeze almost knocked off his hat. Julie planted a hand on it and started off to the beach. He’d heard the daily discussion Adel and Enma always had, so they were there. It was an habit, more than anything else. They would wake up in the morning, eat breakfast cooked by Shit.P, scatter to their routine and Enma would be left alone with Adel and the Lecture.

“We can’t keep living like this.”

“Think of your family!”

“Why not? They pushed us in this situation!”

And so on, and so forth. Julie didn’t know the details, beside that Vongola Primo betrayed Simon Primo back in the days – as in, at least _hundreds_ years prior… Talk about holding grudges. He could understand the hate, really, because their lives were at stake and the idea of Vongola coming to know about their existence was a real danger, but he also understood that the current Vongola’s were not the First generation. And nothing was absolute.

His nose picked on the sea’s scent as he made his way down and started tip-toeing. He didn’t want to be seen, after all. The rocks opened on the sand and he hid behind them, taking a peek around. He could see, with some difficulty, that Adel was kneeling on the sand. She was wearing the same dress from the morning, black, tight, short, with a slightly large skirt and sleeveless. Her ponytail was getting longer, maybe she needed an haircut. She was turned, so he couldn’t see her face… Though she seemed… strange.

His eyes darted past Adel, where he could see Mami in the exact position, but facing the older woman. She was petting something on her lap and laughing, her light yellow dress blending with the sand… Where was Enma?

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Like a spring, Julie whipped his head around, breath caught in his throat and heart jumping out of his chest. He expected to see that damn freak of Koyo, but only empty air was what he saw. He frantically searched around with his gaze, in case someone was actually escaping after making him lose five years of his life, but there was no sounds of footsteps, no flutter of clothes disappearing behind the rocks, nothing beside the waves’ soft lull. He swallowed loudly and considered going back to take a nap, maybe he’d slept bad the night before.

“I’m here. This Generation sure seems stupid.”

He froze. He didn’t dare breathe again as his eyes moved up. In mid-air, just above the height of his sight, a woman dressed in an old-fashioned suit was smoking a cigarette. Her red eyes were piercing and narrowed… and she was see-through, like the ghosts in that movie Kaoru insisted on trying and later regretted deeply.

Julie entertained the thought he was actually having a nightmare… Even though this beauty had all the right curves. Her arms were crossed under her bosom, making it even more prominent.

“Exactly like me, but on the reverse, huh…”

She took a puff of smoke and… vanished into thin air. He didn’t even have time to recollect his thoughts because something tugged at his sleeve and he gave out an extremely unmanly shriek. Making the brown-haired child, holding on his jacket and that scarily resembled Vongola Primo, chuckle, amused.

“Sir, come this way, I want to tell you something.”

Still out of it, Julie let this brat drag him to the beach and sat next to Adel, that seemed equally out of words. What was going on, exactly?

“I’m Tsuna, a temporary guest of your island.” The kid said with a smile, sitting with crossed legs next to Mami. “I have a feeling someone will come soon… and will be really angry about my disappearance…” His smile brightened, as if _elated_. “But, anyway, I wanted you to know the reason behind your memory loss.”

This made Julie tense and blink and gape. “What…?”

The Tsuna brat shrugged. “It was Uncle Daemon’s fault, possessing someone always makes a mess of their minds… But, well, his purpose was to put your family against Vongola and stir a war, just like the Sin affair.”

Julie tried to stop gaping, licking his dry lips. “I’m not following.”

“Let’s wait for Enma to wake up, he should soon, and then we’ll gather everyone, I think that’s for the best.”

“I will!” Mami visibly struggled to not move, enthusiast. “Can I?!”

Adel was about to protest, but Tsuna beat her to it. “But then your brother will become lonely.” She pouted but nodded and stayed put.

The woman at his side gaped, unbelieving. Julie mirrored her. No one had ever found it so easy to convince Mami of not doing something. They both wanted tips.

“Now… who volunteers?”

Julie swallowed at that _smile_. Then considered his options and stood on slightly shaky legs. “I will go.” He said, trying to sound reassuring even to himself. “I know where everyone is.”

Tsuna’s smile widened and he swore he could see hearts and stars in the background. “Thank you.”

He was going crazy, wasn’t he?

 

Yes, the drawings had come out really good. Rauji just needed to colour them. It was his routine every morning, after all everyone passed past that tree and he liked to put their changes black on white. He loved drawing. And he was quite good at it… at least, Mr Kozato had always praised him.

His mind drifted to the little memories he had of Enma’s father. He’d been an art dealer, always surrounded by beautiful paintings and sculptures. He remembered them all, especially Italian masterpieces and their copies, that people wanted to have in their houses. Rauji himself would like to stare at them for hours… but they were forced to hide and he wasn’t going to add to Enma’s endless list of worries – though he already was.

He returned to inspecting his drawings. Enma was wearing a green hoodie, worn and torn here and there because of the training with Koyo. The black baggy pants were in the same condition, maybe a size too big for him. His hair was as unkempt as ever, dark eyebags signalling his lack of sleep and sad expression making it obvious he was occupied in a silent conflict within his own mind. Rauji grabbed the colours and just made some lines to remember his choices, deciding that a soft violet with azure streaks would have made a good background… He sketched some clouds, but they would have to be a bit grey.

He flipped the page. Today Adel had chosen a tight and short dress, black of course, but with a swirling design that remined him of those tribal tunics in that spot about Indians. It suited her, but it was a size too small. Her shoes were pink and heel-less, because she was already tall enough for her liking. Her brows were creased in worry but her mouth was set in a firm and angry line. Probably because of the nth quarrel with Enma about Vongola and the Sin. Rauji thought he was too out of that loop to judge the situation, so he preferred not trying to elaborate it on his own. A sunny background would do her good, but with red streaks here and there to highlight her mood.

Julie had passed by, too, strangely. He was used to see only two of them in the morning, but he had a feeling the day was different from the others… A good different. He had caught the nervousness and the irritation, but nothing too serious. Maybe Julie had just finished his stash of magazines to read and forgotten he was still in his pyjamas, hat aside. Maybe… Oh, blue fading into indigo, but he needed to be sure with a sample.

“Rauji?”

He looked up and blinked at Julie, whose irritation was completely gone. He seemed, instead, shocked and a bit pale. He nodded in acknowledgment and waited, worried eyes trailing his figure for possible wounds.

“Er… Can you go to the beach? I-I’ll fetch the others, just…” Julie swallowed. “Just go and wait there.”

Wasn’t the beach Enma and Mami’s favourite place? It was an unsaid rule to not go when one of them was there. Strange. But Rauji nodded again and gathered his things, eyes following Julie’s shaken frame disappearing in the house. He carefully closed his sketchbook and stood, calmly walking away. He liked the beach, there were all kinds of shades of blue and azure and it was his favourite plethora of colours, because he could even see some violet and there was the sun and its rays and the fading streaks when it dawned… He loved going to the cliff every night at dawn to impress it in his memories, even if he’d always preferred mountains. There weren’t any to draw, in that island, sadly.

Mr Kozato had once said that artists used the sunset to symbolize the ending of something, metaphorically. In his opinion, it was not exactly like that. The sun wasn’t dying, after all, it was only… going to sleep, even if Koyo always reprimanded him that the sun was just disappearing to shine on the other face of the Earth. But, for him, the sun was only tired and needed its sleep, like anyone else. It was not an ‘ending’, it was a ‘see you tomorrow’. It didn’t matter if there was rain shielding its beautiful sight or clouds passing by, the sun was there, just past them, and it was a promise. Sunset meant a promise to rise again.

Looking at the sky, he noticed that the sun was at its peak over them. It was around midday, then. Rauji climbed down the cliff to the beach and his eyes widened at how Adel seemed at the same time shocked, submitted and angry. Without asking questions, he sat down beside her and studied the child and the lion cub… He took his sketchbook and started drawing them.

Whatever was going on, he would discover soon. Enma was passed out but Mami was taking care of him while babbling about her beautiful sand castle, that he decided to draw later. Adel sent him a silent plea of help but he honestly didn’t know what help was needed here… There was just a stranger child with a pet, not Vongola on their tails, else they would be fleeing the island, right?

 

This was not how he planned to go about his day.

Wake up, shower, brush his teeth, dress in his supposed-to-be uniform, study his daily subjects, eat lunch, train a bit in the sunny weather, eat dinner, write his diary, go to bed.

This was Koyo’s impeccable schedule. He liked order, he loved routine and he abhorred incompetency. He also couldn’t say he hadn’t had time to study, because that annoying flea called Kato Julie came to stress him at twelve thirty. Then again, the fedora-wearing beansprout also wouldn’t wake up before ten in the morning, detail that wasn’t helping Koyo in keeping down his irritation.

“I’m studying.” He said, not even letting him start on some half-assed explanation.

It wasn’t the first time this happened and he loathed being disturbed in the morning. He could… _stand_ conversation during meals, but not in-between and _especially_ not in the early hours – because from 8 to 13 were early hours, for him.

“I won’t come with you to plan a prank on Adel just so that you can see her panties.”

Because it had happened. And he still remembered the heavy slap on his beautiful cheek, that had kept the red bruise for an entire week. Damn himself and damn the desire to be of help to his family. They were a bunch of idiots, period.

“N-no… it’s not, uh.”

Koyo arched a brow and actually looked at the notorious pervert. Kato seemed on the verge of having a mental breakdown, which was something he’d never seen. He remembered the day of their escape quite clearly and Kato had been their pillar of strength in those weeks. What was able to shake this man to the point of looking around like a lost deer and jumpy at the sound of the attic’s door creaking? That damn thing had been broken for years and no one had yet thought of fixing it.

“Uhm… J-just go to the beach, ok? Don’t ask, I don’t think I’d be able to explain.”

And off he was, jogging down the stairs and who knew where. Koyo considered going back to study and forget someone had interrupted his session. He closed the door, crossed his arms and pouted to the creamy wall full of Star Wars’ posters.

It seemed a serious issue.

His responsible characteristic didn’t allow Koyo to just ignore the request. With a grave sigh, the teen took the uniform’s jacket and a book – just in case – before leaving the house. He didn’t find Rauji in his usual spot, in the willow’s shade, so he assumed everyone was being gathered at the beach. That was, thinking about it, Enma’s sanctuary of sorts. A bunch of scaredy-cats.

Their supposed Boss didn’t know what he wanted from his life. The biggest of them – Rauji – was an enormous softie that liked sketching and playing with leaves. Adelheid was keeping the front of a strong woman that truly only wanted to hide in some closet. Kaoru closed himself up and rot in his own quietness. Kato hid his grief behind his pervert attitude. Shit.P… Well, Shit.P was Shit.P. There was no real explanation for her and she was maybe the only one that had really moved on.

Shaking the thoughts from his mind, Koyo looked around and started to miss the forest he’d left to reach the beach. It was where he trained, far from the others and peacefully lost in quietness. True, rustling leaves and the occasional animal ruined that, but not enough for him to file a complaint to Mother Nature. No, the birds’ chirps were just a signal that he was the only ‘disturbance’ in the whole forest and _that_ ’s exactly how he liked it. For some reason, the animals didn’t consider him as such. And maybe that reason had to do with his Flames, from what he’d been able to gather about their abilities as Simon’s.

A sigh escaped his lips as he hopped down to the beach. He’d tried several times to help Enma with his Flames, yet the boy couldn’t grasp how to materialize them. So far, only Kato and Adel, himself included, had succeeded, though their manifestations were just a bit more than flickers, like a damaged light bulb. He had Mr Kozato’s old journals to thank about what he had learned to understand the Flames and their attributes. There still was that time in which Kato had showed extreme competency, but it was all gone lately.

“… He has one, too…”

Adelheid’s voice shook Koyo from his thoughts and made him look up. Right in front of him, before he could locate the young female, he blinked at what could only be some ethereal manifestation of a well-crafted imitation of his persona. He inclined his head to the right in curiosity.

“Is this some Illusion?”

“Nope!”

“Thought so.”

He didn’t know the voice that had answered him but this was a more pressing matter. It seemed young and strangely… amused, though. The see-through figure was a man of maybe forty years old, dressed like a scientist taken out straight from one of those Victorian-era fictions he’d seen on tv when he couldn’t sleep because of nightmares. He had bright blonde hair and a test tube filled with something blue swirling in his left hand. The right one was buried in the coat’s pocket. Thick round glasses slid down to the middle of his nose to let red, piercing eyes peer at Koyo.

Out of habit, he offered his hand. “Pleased to meet you, my name’s Koyo, Mr …?”

The scientist just hummed, then vanished into thin hair. He shrugged that off and turned to his left… where Adelheid seemed to be subjected to the happy but strange stare of a child, Enma was passed out in Mami’s lap and Rauji was… drawing something, as usual.

“Can I ask what’s going on?”

Surprisingly, it was the stranger that answered him and he recognized the voice from moments before. “We’re waiting for the others and for Enma to wake up!”

He suddenly knew this brat meant chaos and made to leave, willing his mind to forget this whole ordeal. He also mentally cursed Kato and noted in his head to burn that secrets stash of porn he kept in those ruins behind the beehive.

 

_Plick. Plick. Plick._

The river was drying, the lake’s level would lower soon, what a pity.

_Zzzz…. Zzzbzzzz… Bzzzzzzz…_

The bees were particularly active, but she had to admit the flowers looked delicious even to her.

_Fooooooooosh….._

A soft breeze, coming from the sea judging the smell. Enma should be there, maybe with Adel after their usual fight. Shit.P just couldn’t understand why people don’t act on their own desires instead of putting other things first. She did and nothing ever went wrong. The others didn’t… and some things turned out for the worst.

_Baaaa…. Baaaa…_

Distantly, she could hear the sheep. It was about time the shepherds took them back.

_Arf!_

Ah, that’s Dante, the shepherd’s dog. Always so happily trying to get cuddles.

_Foosh foosh foosh foosh foosh–_

P opened her eyes, that focused right in front of her at the trespasser of her sacred meditating place. No one was welcome there. No. _One_.

“I know…” The pervert that she didn’t like but was behaving better lately had his hands up in the air in a sign of surrender. “But we need you at the beach.” Not a good enough excuse, this was _her_ sanctuary. “Sorry, I’ll leave the, uh, premises? Yeah, those, please come.” And he, strangely, left, just like that.

P flopped upside down and landed with her feet on the ground, arms crossed. Her legs felt a bit sore but pleasantly so. She stretched, thinking. She wasn’t one for going along one’s plan or requests, but curiosity was springing up and she swiftly floated thanks to her inflatable rings towards the cliff. The breeze picked up again and she stopped abruptly when a shadow flew at her right, but nothing moved more than that so she shrugged it off and was at the beach in a few seconds.

There was quite an assembly and she was even more curious, so she jumped off the cliff and bounced on the sand right in the middle of the kneeling/sitting people. There was a new face and Koyo was just bumping his head against Kaoru’s chest, ending up in the dirt.

“Wow, that was cool!”

She whipped her head to the child and _beamed_. “Thank you!” She already liked him. “Who are you?”

“Hi! I’m Tsuna!”

 

The birdie chirped happily as Kaoru kindly left it in its nest. The mother flew to the branch and softly pecked his finger. He just smiled and jumped down from the tree, brushing his hands on the pants. He started going back to snatch a snack or something from the fridge, religiously evading P’s sanctuary’s ‘premises’, as she called them when someone ‘trespassed’.

He briefly wondered if Enma was still upset, brooding at the beach, or if Adel was still sulking at the table, tapping her foot on the floor. Maybe he should just go check on his Boss first… His face darkened for some seconds. He didn’t want a ‘Boss’… He wanted a friend… But he knew things were not that easy.

The situation was heavy and Adel didn’t forget to remind them – through yells – every morning. He felt more tired as days passed by. He wanted to help, but he didn’t know how.

“A manly deed.”

Kaoru flinched and looked around, frantic. He froze when something… _ghostly_ … met his sight. A man floating in mid-air, arms crossed on his chest, with a green Chinese attire. In one hand, he had a pack of chips.

“Worthy.”

He disappeared like a wisp of smoke in a breeze. Kaoru stayed there, rooted to the spot, gaping like a fish, blinking like an owl, for several moments. Only something softly patting his shoulder made him jump and turn like a whip.

“W-whoa!” Julie held his hands high in a defeated manner, a bit scared by his fists. “Calm down mate!”

Kaoru slowly did, looking around warily. “Sorry… I was… spooked…”

“Welcome to the club… Anyway, come with me, we’re, uh… gathering at the beach…”

Which was unheard of. Gathering? The most they did all together was eat meals. But he followed the other, curious and… hopeful. Maybe there was an explanation for the… paranormal activity.

They walked silently to the cliff and down the path, only for Julie to dodge and Kaoru to knock Koyo on the sand, not that he’d wanted to. He offered his hand to the teen, faintly hearing the laughter of P from his left, but Koyo refused it and stood by himself.

“Sorry…”

“Be more careful.”

Cold. As always. There was just no chance, huh? He couldn’t make them his friends, no matter how many things they’d gone through together.

His sadness must have reflected on his face, because Julie sympathetically patted his shoulder, shaking his head with a light sigh. “He apologized, why do you always have to be like this?”

Kaoru appreciated to be defended, but he didn’t want them to fight. “Stop, it doesn’t matter…”

“That’s not completely ok, but come here, can you?”

They looked where Adelheid, P, Mami and a brunette child were sitting. It was strange to see Adel that tame around a stranger on their island. Last time an outcast had happened to be stranded on shore, she’d been out for blood. Mami was combing Enma’s hair, their ‘Boss’ was out. Also, nearby was a sleeping lion cub. P was hovering around, studying the stranger with glinting eyes and an easy smile, something she sported rarely.

Julie was the first to move, motioning for them to join the group. Koyo was very reluctant about it, but ended sitting down nonetheless… Kaoru wondered if they’d had encounters like his.

“I guess each of you has met their ancestor.”

…

_What…?_

“Yes, well, to explain it, Enma here used his Flames and summoned Simon’s First Generation. Now, Simon and Vongola can clear out a _huge_ misunderstanding.” The child _smiled_ , as if he hadn’t just landed a nuclear bomb on them.

 

“You now tell me where he is or I’ll make sure to lodge a bullet in your head, _repeatedly_.”

“C-calm down.” No, nope, he hadn’t just stuttered. “He’s somewhere safe.”

“That’s true.” Giotto tried, but taking a ‘step’ back. “Tsuna is safer there, right now. We thought it would have been a good idea to take him away while we dealt with the nuisances.” _And Alaude offered to stay nearby._

Reborn’s fiery eyes moved to the founder of Vongola, that gulped and kind of curled in himself. “You’re saying you _took_ him away from the mansion without telling a soul after he has been _kidnapped_.” It was maybe supposed to be a question, but Giotto failed to hear the question mark.

“W-well… We had… to solve… an issue?” Instead, he ended up posing a question when he should have made a statement.

The hitman _growled_. Giotto suddenly feared for his life, completely forgetting he was already dead.

“You now either tell me where he is or bring me to him.”

…

 

“… misunderstanding.”

Enma blinked his eyes open, wondering for a moment where he was, why he was so warm and who was almost making him purr by massaging his scalp. He registered Mami, that looked at him with a wide smile, and the sun hitting them… Were they at the beach?

Wait… This warmth wasn’t only the sun. It was… from within himself. He slowly sat up, gazing over his hands, clenching and unclenching them in bewilderment. Everything came back, Tsuna, the ‘truth’, his Flames… A small ball of fire came to life in his hand as he tried to replay that untameable will to protect his sister, but it intensified when he thought about all his family. It was beautiful.

He heard some gasps and turned. His family was all gathered, eyeing the Flame in his hand like it was an alien. He knelt to turn towards Tsuna, that was smiling at him, but… There was a tint of sadness in his expression… Deep within his eyes.

“Thank you, Tsuna.”

The brunette shook his head and waved a hand. “It was no problem, though I want to apologize again for giving you a fright.”

“You never intended on hurting any of us, so you’re forgiven…” He said, extinguishing the fire and looking down. “It was all a misunderstanding…”

Tsuna hummed. “It was to protect Simon’s.” He said, caressing Natsu’s back as he made his way on his lap. “Daemon Spade had betrayed Vongola, trapping the Simon’s so that they wouldn’t have been able to survive, thinking of you all as weaknesses. But Giotto Vongola saw through it with his Intuition and saved your First Generation. To stop Daemon from attempting at your lives again, your ancestors went into hiding and it was agreed to craft the Sin. It’s, basically, Cozarto Simon’s blood. Vindice had a role in this, too. The agreement said that, if the future generations of Simon and Vongola happened to fight each other, Vindice was to arbitrate the battles and take in custody the losers.” The notion sunk and everyone, minus P, paled. “Also, they would clear the misunderstanding by delivering the memories of those days.”

“W-wait, this is _insane_ , what the he–“ Julie bit his tongue and just went on looking into nothing.

Adel was completely shocked into silence.

P chuckled and made a somersault in mid-air.

Rauji finished his drawing and signed it, admiring how well it had come but wondering why he wanted to paint it all in a sad blue.

Kaoru’s instincts told him it was all true, though his concern right then was for Enma and for this Tsuna. They both seemed incredibly lost, for different reasons.

Koyo blinked repeatedly and took his time to push his glasses up his nose. Everyone knew that was his habit when faced with something that perturbed him.

“I assure you everything I said is true. If you want, ask your ancestors. They’re going to stay for a while.” Tsuna smiled. “But… I think it’s time to part ways. A certain hitman is after me right now.” He stood, ignoring how Enma was resembling a white bedsheet more and more. “One last thing, though. Vongola has never betrayed you, Daemon Spade is regretting what he did and you will always, always be welcome. If you need anything, just search for us. I have a feeling you know where we are.” He winked.

Next, they heard the engine of a boat and, before they could turn, a man in black appeared out of nowhere, sweeping Tsuna up in his arms. The brunette giggled… He _giggled_ and smiled up at the new stranger.

“Hello, Reborn. Missed me?”

“Tsuna… Please, stop giving me heart attacks.” He pierced everyone with a freezing gaze. “What’s going on here?”

“I just cleared up a misunderstanding, nothing much. How did you find me? Was this hide-and-seek fun?”

Reborn sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. “What do you think… Am I not _amused_?” There was thick sarcasm in his voice.

“You’re annoyed.”

“Spot on.” He hummed, looking at the others again. “I don’t need an explanation as to why you ended up here, those ghosts will pay for this.” He turned his eyes on Tsuna again, that was mindlessly petting the lion cub. “But I need to know what issue you were deal–“

A rip in mid-air made Enma understand that he was thoroughly done with paranormal. For all his life. A figure clad in a black mantle with fur around his neck, bandages covering his face and black, long, curly hair appeared through what seemed a _teleportation_ _gate_. He heard Julie wail and Adel’s breath become haggard because they knew who dressed like that and it was no good news.

The man in black with a fedora tensed and assumed a defensive stance, curling around Tsuna. Enma then noticed there was a baby, an infant almost, on the Vindice’s shoulder, dressed exactly like the Mafia Police members.

The red-haired, however, blinked in surprise when his family hurried to stand between the Vindice and him, that instinctively brought Mami in his arms. He chanced a look at Tsuna, then felt more blood drained from his system, because the brunette was smiling _fondly_ at the two.

“What is Vindice doing here.” The hitman’s, Reborn, voice was icy.

“We are hereby declaring an old agreement null, as the successors of Vongola and Simon have no more reasons to fight. We’ll deliver the memories in due time.” The tone was final, like a Boss, but squeaky and indescribably cold, colder then Adel’s iced tea.

The infant turned his head from the Simon’s to Tsuna and hummed. Enma looked, too, and had to blink many times when he saw flashes of gold in the brunette’s eyes. Tsuna’s face also became serious, an expression that… didn’t seem to fit him.

“There’s no way I’m allowing that.” He whispered, surprising everyone, even Vindice, that _flinched_ subtly. “Just you wait.” He then turned to the man in black with determined eyes. “We can go back now.” And again to Enma. “Come anytime you want, my grandpa will be waiting.”

The Vindice disappeared, to Enma it seemed like they had just _fled_. He could only gape and slowly wave back at Tsuna as Reborn approached the beach and waited patiently… for a yacht to get near. Someone launched a rope and a surfboard. The hitman caught the rope, climbed the board and let someone else drag them to the yacht. Tsuna didn’t stop to wave at them once.

Still feeling like straight out of a very intense nightmare, Enma cleared his throat and tried to push everything aside. He had to analyse one thing at a time and… Consider Tsuna’s offer. It could, effectively, solve all their problems, actually.

But, first. He sighed.

He turned to Adel, that was still shocked and gaping. “I won’t say things like I told you or anything… But I think something has to change.”

His gaze moved on all his friends, that turned to him and sat. Koyo was trying to seem unperturbed, but his hands were shaking, like the first day they ended up running away. He was sitting down on his knees, hands on the thighs gripping the slightly dirty pants in a tight grip. Kaoru, at his right, was sitting with crossed legs, face a mask of blankness that betrayed surprise and bewilderment. P was still giggling. Rauji was studying a paper, probably his newest drawing and Enma wondered what it was. The teen was very good at expressing others’ emotions through his art, his father had always praised that quality. Julie was looking down, deeply in thought, biting his lower lip.

Maybe… It was time to tell them what he thought.

“I’m not your Boss, so stop thinking of me as one.” They snapped their eyes on him, but Enma tried his best not to waver. “I won’t give you orders, because it doesn’t suit me and, most of all, you don’t have to follow them. I don’t _want_ to have this kind of relationship, and you neither.” He registered how Koyo repressed a scoff, looking away, and P nodded with closed eyes and crossed arms. “I want us to be a family, because that’s what we all need.” He could see each of them had something to say, but he went on. “It’s obvious that being a family is not easy. Koyo doesn’t like how Julie invades his spaces, P wants her sanctuary untouched, Rauji needs to be more talkative, Kaoru prefers nature over people, Adel…” He hesitated. “Adel, you are not our mom. You are our sister. There’s a difference, don’t take this wrongly.” Her eyes were more on the studying side than anything else, but those words were like spears in Enma’s heart. “We can be responsible… _I_ will be. And that’s why… I want you guys to consider what we just discovered and… Uhm… Please, choose what you _want_ to do, not what you think you are supposed to do.” He waved a hand to where the yacht had disappeared. “You’ve seen that. We almost waged war without knowing the full truth.”

He heaved a deep sigh, combing his hand through his hair. Maybe he’d said too much, just… It was everything that had bottled up until then, buried within him. He’d had his time to study them, to understand them even if they didn’t want to open up to him.

Family first.

That was what his father taught him, and he’d followed that advice through and through. It was his duty, but it was what he wanted.

Once more, Enma let his gaze linger on each of them. There were insecurities, doubts, hesitations, but also the beginning of understanding and acceptance.

He didn’t expect someone to talk. Honestly, he just wanted to go have a good nap. He felt _exhausted_ and he knew the entire fault was Tsuna’s. Despite that, he wanted to meet him again, someday.

“Guess there’s no other choice.” Koyo sighed, scratching his nape. “I’m stuck with you, what a disappointment.”

“Talk about yourself, bookworm.” There was no malice in Julie’s tone as he stood and dusted off his pants. “I’ve never wanted to leave, to begin with.”

“Yeah? And what?” It resembled his and Adel’s morning fight…

“I was thinking… We can build something… Like a resort? A summer retreat? Imagine the girls, bikinis..!!”

Enma flinched when Adel punched Julie’s head into the sand. “Not a bad idea, minus the perverted thoughts.”

…

_What?_

He gaped.

“Themed.” P added, then floated somewhere.

“W-wait… I’m not f-following…”

Adel looked at him, one hand on her wait, then smiled affectionately, melting the ice in his stomach. “I was thinking your little speech made sense. We don’t have to hide anymore and we need a proper income… So, why not?”

It… Well, ok, but…

“What do you think, Boss?”

Enma blinked twice, bewildered. “W-what?”

“What do you think?” Adel repeated, but with a slight smirk.

“Not-t that… B-boss?”

“Yes, you’re our Boss.”

… But he’d just said he didn’t _want_ to be the Boss!!

Enma wailed like a little girl. Mami made herself a good older brother and hushed his wails with cuddles and pats. She was really happy for him!!

 

“I’d like to know what happened with Vindice.”

Tsuna hummed as his eyes flashed gold at a worrisome pace. “I don’t know exactly.” He was leaning on the railing of the yacht, arms crossed on it and head tilted to one side. “Not yet… But it’s not something good.” He turned to Reborn, that stilled. “Not for you…” He looked again at the sea. “Nor for me.”

Silence fell, disturbed by the engine and the small crew making the impossible possible by reaching Italian coasts in less than record time. The hitman was deeply lost in his thoughts when the brunette talked again, with a sad but firm voice.

“Ne, Reborn?” The raven hummed, watching as Leon jumped to Tsuna’s shoulder. “I was wondering… You want to leave Italy again, right?”

He decided against only confirming it with a nod. “It’s for the best. We’ve hunted down Estraneo, but we’re going to be interrupted even more after… the last events.” He pursed his lips, still uncomfortable by how much they’d been close to losing the child.

“Then… Can we go to Japan?” Tsuna turned to him, eyes a hurricane of sadness that didn’t manage to break through in tears.

Reborn hesitated, unsure… But then he felt the need to ask: “Why?”

The brunette looked away, lips thin. “I… I want to say goodbye.”

“Good–“ His inquiring question got cut off when he understood.

Tsuna moved his gaze to him again. “Yes… To mom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes!
> 
> \- Rauji’s name, actually, is Large, I didn’t know. Rauji is, I think, the Japanese reading for Large, but I decided in the end to keep Rauji because… Well, there are reasons, one of which is that I like it more.
> 
> \- Kaoru’s Flames have never been disclosed! I had to made that up! Who knows, maybe I got it right… It kind of fits. Though you don't see them in this chap :P
> 
> \- Rauji and P's ghosts do not appear... but, well, this is not Simon's' last chapter of glory! Too many characters and I think we only touched the tip of the iceburg, uhm? It's only the beginning, they will go to Vongola, someday, right? xP
> 
> Now, now... Who's next?
> 
> Let's see... Oh! Takeshi! Eheh! Aside from asking you all to be patient and tell me if you liked this chap (I seriously hope so), I only have left to wish you a good day! Thanks for reading! See ya!


End file.
